One Less Star, Book 1
by HardlyFatal
Summary: The mikos assigned to protect the Shikon no Tama are fated always to join with the members of a certain youkai family to protect it. Fated love is not all it's cracked up to be. KagoSess.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:**_ As this is going to be a longish story, I'd like to get a few things out of the way from the beginning.

I _hate_ when people blackmail their readers by refusing to post new chapters without a certain number of reviews, and will _never_ do that here. I don't see writing as a competition, and the number of reviews I get for a story doesn't matter to me. If I get 2 reviews or 2000, it's all the same to me.

That said, I also prefer not to receive reviews bashing particular characters, pairings, or whatever. You don't like that Kagome's a main character? Or who I'm pairing her with? Stop reading.

Things with Midoriko will make more sense if you read my other story, _**A Thousand Years**_, which is a prequel to this one. This story takes place 7 years after Kagome's first trip through the well to Sengoku Jidai.

_**DISCLAIMER:**_ I have only seen the first 50 episodes of Inuyasha, and have researched as much as I can, so please tell me if I get canon, characterization, continuity, or anything else wrong. I WANT TO KNOW. Really. Don't be shy.

I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it. Since smut is not able to be posted here on , I will be uploading any lemony chapters with just an excerpt here… the entire lemon will be available on my Yahoo group. If you don't read the lemon-chapters, never fear: you won't be missing out on any storyline. The only thing that occurs during the smut is smut, not plot progression or character development.

****

**One Less Star, Part 1  
Chapter 1  
**By CinnamonGrrl

_How is it possible_, Kagome wondered when it was all over, _to win the war but lose the battle?_

The combat they'd both longed for, and dreaded; the victory they'd never really even hoped would come. It felt hollow, and Kagome could not locate even a smidgen of satisfaction as she gripped one half the Shikon no Tama in each hand. There lacked but a single shard; buried in the back of Sango's brother, the hapless Kohaku, it was now the only factor keeping Kagome from restoring the jewel to completion.

Kagura had handed them their defeat of Naraku. The typical avid greed for blood was absent in from her face, Kagome had noted throughout the fight, and her attacks had seemed lackluster, lacking Kagura's usual glee at causing pain and disrupting their lives in general.

No one had expected the demoness to zip along on her feather-boat, swerve behind her creator-father Naraku, and snag the chain holding his half of the Shikon from around his neck. But her vicious smile of pleasure as the metal bit into the flesh of his throat, leaving a thin line of blood, had been positively luminous.

She'd tossed it toward Kagome with a rather worrying coy smile, then floated away as quickly as her feather could take her. Her parting words of, "Use well the gift I have given you, miko," echoed across the battlefield, and there was only Naraku to defeat.

And it _was_ Naraku, too—not a puppet, not one of his incarnations. Really, truly him. Funny thing, though: he wasn't much of a challenge, now that the Shikon's power wasn't feeding him, and Inuyasha's relentless use of Tetsusaiga was battering him almost into a paste.

His handsome face was a bloody mess; his nose was nothing more than pulverized cartilage, and a cut across his forehead ran a steady stream of blood into his eyes. Still, he fought on, sending wave after wave of demons at them. The few that escaped the Kaze no Kizu were sucked up by Miroku's Kazaana or sliced to ribbons by Sango's Hiraikotsu.

Kagome felt pretty useless, all told.

She stood with Shippo on the perimeter of the battlefield, bow and arrow in hand, ready and even willing to do her part. But she had to admit that there wasn't really anything for her to do beside guard the jewel.

"I can't believe it's almost over, Kagome," Shippo said, smiling over at her with bright, eager eyes. Seven years after joining her and Inuyasha in their quest for the jewel and Naraku, he was just a head shorter than her now and growing bigger daily. "I just wish there were something for me to do." He bounced on his fox feet, apparently feeling just as futile as Kagome at the moment.

"You never know!" she told him, forcing some cheer into her voice. "There might be something we're needed for, after all."

He grinned and nodded, his gaze back on the fight. Inuyasha was jeering at his opponent, insulting his dependence on other demons to fight his battles, and Naraku had apparently taken it to heart because he stopped expelling demons from his black soul, instead rising up on a mass of black tentacles and using them to strike at the hanyou.

One curled around Inuyasha's ankle; he sliced it off effortlessly. Kagome expected it to regenerate immediately but when it didn't, she realized that Naraku really was crippled without his shards. Sango, Kirara, and Miroku leapt forward and began to attack as well.

Naraku snarled at them and emitted thick, viscous clouds of miasma. Immediately, Sango and Miroku were driven back, but Inuyasha and Kirara soldiered on.

"I can't see where he is!" They heard Inuyasha yell as the cloud grew bigger and bigger. Soon it was obscuring almost everything around them, knocking Sango and Miroku to their knees. Kirara roared in the distance, apparently quite frustrated as well by the lack of visibility.

Kagome nocked an arrow and felt the familiar pull on her shoulders as she drew back the string, aiming toward the general centre of the miasma but not releasing. "Inuyasha!" she exclaimed. "Get out of the miasma! I don't want to hit you!"

Then she, and Shippo as well, began coughing as the miasma began to affect even them. Her watering eyes could barely make out the shapes of Inuyasha and Kirara as they alighted on the ground nearby.

"Now, Kagome!" Inuyasha shouted. "Shoot the bastard _now_!"

She closed her eyes, murmuring a word of prayer, and then released her arrow into the midst of the roiling black haze. The glowing pink missile burnt through the miasma, clearing it away, purifying the very air around them until it fairly sparkled, and when it was gone, they all gazed eagerly toward where Naraku had last been seen…

…only to find there was nothing there but an empty baboon pelt.

"Is he dead?" Shippo demanded, his voice rending the silence. "Is he, is he?"

They all turned to Miroku, still sitting on the ground. He unwrapped the prayer beads binding his hand and cautiously peeled back the glove, then wrapped it back up quickly when the familiar roar of his Kazaana began to sound. Eyes bleak, he said not a word, but stared up at them and shook his head.

The wind whispered by, and carried with it the sound, ever so faint, of mocking laughter. Kagome's heart sank, her shoulders slumped, and her bow dangled from suddenly-limp fingers. "No," she said quietly, her gaze lifting to meet Inuyasha's as he, too, comprehended what had just happened. "Naraku managed to escape while we were blinded by the miasma."

Inuyasha's scream of outrage echoed off the trees, the rocks, the very clouds overhead. Breathing hard, he clenched and unclenched his fists, his eyes wild with fury, before stomping over to a tree and wrenching it from the ground. Digging in his claws, he began to heft it up and down, using it to beat at a large boulder nearby as a way of venting his rage.

Miroku stood, then helped Sango to her feet, his hands for once keeping to innocuous places. They all watched Inuyasha, each wishing they too had the strength to use trees to bludgeon rocks into powder.

"Hey, Kagome," Shippo said with indomitable optimism, "at least we have all of the Shikon except for one bit, huh?" Sango's downcast gaze served to remind everyone that the only shard yet to be retrieved, the only bit not in their possession, was the one animating her brother Kohaku. Shippo sighed, sorry he'd depressed his friend.

Still breathing heavily from his temper tantrum, Inuyasha dropped what was left of the tree beside the fragments of the boulder and dusted off his hands on his hakama, making his way over to the rest of the group.

"Go on, then," he commanded, eyes alight with eagerness and a certain avarice. "Put it all together."

Kagome brought her hands to each other, meaning to join the two almost-halves, but as soon as her palms were cupped around their slight, cool weight a strange sensation filled her. It was a little like when she felt a shard was near, only with the addition of a huge amount of unease and trepidation. Confused, she stared up at Inuyasha's impatient face as she tried to figure it out. All she could think was that _she_ _must not do it._

"No," she said, her voice wobbling a little, "I can't. Not right now. The time's not right."

"Whaaat?" Inuyasha demanded, eyebrows waggling fiercely. "Don't be stupid. Of _course_ the time is right. You put it together, we get the last shard" —Sango winced at this— "and then I get my wish, dammit."

"No," Kagome repeated stubbornly. "It's not the right time to put it together."

"Why not, Kagome-san?" Miroku asked calmly. He was leaning rather heavily on his staff and Kagome saw, for the first time, that his leg was injured. She felt guilty for not noticing earlier. _Some friend I am_, she thought glumly, but was dragged from her internal scolding by Inuyasha's grouchy expression.

"I'm not sure why not," she admitted. "You're just going to have to trust me."

"Trust you!" Inuyasha shouted. "You're the one who shattered it in the first place!"

"And you never get tired of telling me that, either!" Kagome shouted back. It had been years since she'd committed that gravely inopportune mistake, seven to be exact, and while she didn't blame him for being tired of shard-hunting, she also resented being reminded of her error at every opportunity. "It's not the right time to do it. If you don't agree with me, you can put it together yourself, Inuyasha."

Then she folded her arms and turned her back on him, knowing there was no one else who could perform the feat in her place. No one but...

"Fine," he said snidely, and held out his hand. "Give 'em to me. I'll just find Kikyo and see what _she_ can do."

"She still hates you," Shippo reminded him, a trifle nastily as he was distinctly unhappy how the hanyou was being mean to Kagome. "She would rather shatter it again than help you join it all together."

Inuyasha glared daggers at the little kitsune and made as to grab for him, but Kagome planted one hand in the centre of his chest and pushed with both physical and spiritual force. She'd gained more control over her powers in latter years, thanks to Kaede's patient tutelage, and had no problem keeping Inuyasha from maiming Shippo. For the time being, at least.

"Forget it," she told him firmly. "Naraku's still out there, and we don't know whose side Kikyo's on. I'm not letting you hand all of the Shikon but one shard over to his ally." She turned to Sango, in whose arms rested Kirara, and addressed the cat-demon. "Can you take us back to the village? Kaede should look at Miroku, and I need to go home for a while." She sighed. "I'm tired."

"Keh," Inuyasha grumbled, but helped Miroku mount the fire cat while Kagome settled the still-shaken Sango on Kirara's back. Then he turned to face away from Kagome, leaning over so she could climb on his back. "What's the hold-up?" he snarled over his shoulder when her weight was not immediately forthcoming.

Turning, he saw that she, too, had boarded Kirara. Her face was inscrutable and weary. "No, thanks, Inuyasha," she said quietly. "See you back at Kaede's."

She felt bad, as they flew through the cooling early evening air toward the village, to remember the expression of regret on his face. She knew that he never really meant any of his harsh words or insults, but even after all these years it still hurt. A pang of self-loathing flitted through her. Why couldn't she toughen up? Why did she allow Inuyasha the power to hurt her still?

She was asking for trouble, being so sensitive and thin-skinned where he was concerned. Her guilt over shattering the Shikon, and therefore his dream of becoming full youkai, had wrecked her life in the modern era. She'd scarcely managed to graduate high school and with grades and attendance as poor as hers, there was no chance she'd get into university.

Her mother and grandfather had never said anything, but she could almost feel the waves of disappointment that came from them in her presence. She was twenty-two years old, an adult, and had nothing to show for herself. No advanced education, no career, and even the faithful Houjo had years earlier moved onto greener pastures, as it were.

She couldn't blame him. Who wanted to date a girl who'd nearly flunked out of school and supposedly had terrible health problems? A girl with few to no prospects for the future? The only thing Kagome had going for her was her heritage as a member of a shrine family, and even that was an increasingly spurious advantage in these less religious times.

Kagome tangled her fingers in Kirara's soft fur and bowed her head, only realizing she'd been crying when the air whipping past them dried her tears. She felt lost, and had for years now. Inuyasha would never be able to love her as she needed. Sometimes she felt that he'd given all his ability to show affection to Kikyo, and there was none left over for her or anyone else.

Sometimes she thought of accepting Kouga's persistent claims of her as his woman. At least someone wanted her, she'd think, a little desperate to belong _somewhere_, to be seen as more than a burden. But that was too self-pitying even for her, and wrong, too. She couldn't use Kouga like that.

Kirara touched down lightly in the dirt path before Kaede's hut, and Kagome scrambled down to help Miroku to his feet. She barely registered his hand fondling her backside, idly brushing it away before looping his arm around her neck to assist him inside.

"Kagome-san," he said, hopping up the stairs, "what's wrong?"

She only shook her head, feeling immeasurably sad. "Just thinking." He was clearly unconvinced but accepting her answer with a nod, even as his keen gaze watched her closely.

Kaede's faint smile of welcome faded to see the monk's blood-stained robes, and she ushered him onto a pallet right away. Kagome stayed only long enough to hear Kaede's pronouncement that Miroku would soon make a full recovery before slinging her pack on her shoulder and making for the door.

She was reluctant to leave the cozy warmth of the hut and her friends, but she wanted to get to the well before Inuyasha returned. She knew he would argue with her about returning, and wanted to avoid it if possible.

Shippo trotted after her, talking a thousand miles a minute. "I can't believe Naraku got away, but we have all his shards! And poor Miroku, not only is his leg hurt but he's still cursed. Oh, Sango... she knows what we have to do to Kohaku, to get the last shard... that can't be easy for her..."

Kagome just nodded and murmured, the only response the excited kitsune seemed to require. "Thanks for walking me to the well, Shippo," she said when its squat silhouette was visible in the distance.

They walked the remainder of the way in silence as the cool blue shadows of dusk fell around them, and then Shippo said, "He didn't mean it, Kagome. You know that."

"He never does," she replied quietly, bracing her hands on the flat plank serving as the well's lip. It was rough against her palms, with jagged little bits she knew were just _waiting_ to give her splinters. She wondered when she'd begun thinking that inanimate objects were out to get her, and sighed.

"Will you hurry back?" She glanced over her shoulder to see Shippo wringing his hands in distress. "I'll miss you."

Kagome hugged him. "I'll hurry back when I feel a little better," she promised. "I'll miss you, too." She vaulted over the side, managing to avoid the malicious intent of the splinter-giving wood, and breathed easier once the magic allowing the time shift surrounded her. She found herself floating, weightless. The stars twinkled in the vastness of space like diamonds, and she smiled faintly to see their bright beauty.

But it went on and on. She just kept floating, instead of being chucked out of the warp into her own modern era. _What's going on?_ she thought, a little panicked, and tried to look around to see if there were another huge centipede youkai about to attack her in this strange non-place.

"Be calm," came a voice, musical and lilting, and instantly her anxiety vanished. Kagome felt a sickening lurch in her belly and suddenly was standing upright even though there was nothing below her but empty, black space. "No harm will come to you."

She spun around to find a woman behind her, long hair streaming down past her armour to her waist. She looked familiar... "Midoriko?" Kagome gasped as recognition popped like a soap bubble in her head.

The woman nodded, tilting her head back to stare at the starry sky that surrounded them in all directions. "There is one less star, have you noticed?" she said conversationally. "One less star, and the heavens weep for its loss."

Huh? "Are you talking about the last shard?" Kagome asked cautiously. "We know where it is, we just have to go get it... but it'll kill Kohaku."

"No," Midoriko replied, "I do not speak of the last shard, though we are relieved you are close to completing the jewel. We were concerned you would fail."

"We?" Kagome asked, trying desperately to understand the other woman's cryptic speech. "The other three souls beside you?"

Midoriko shook her head, glossy black hair swaying around her. "What do you know of other dimensions, child?" she asked instead.

"Other... huh?" Kagome was in grave danger of being hideously confused.

"Other dimensions... other realities," Midoriko replied patiently. "Are you aware that there are myriad realities? That you exist in infinite other places?"

"I huh?" Danger no longer... Kagome was officially baffled, and starting to become frightened again.

Midoriko touched Kagome's hand and instantly the fear receded to a bearable level, her eyes closing as a feeling of safety and comfort swept over her. When she opened her eyes again, however, her jaw fell open in shock, for behind Midoriko—surrounding both of them—were many, many women.

And not just any women. _Her_. Kagome.

They all looked a little different. Some were younger, some were middle-aged, some quite old; some were beautiful, some quite plain. But every single one of them was _her_, and it scared the hell right out of her.

"We are the others Midoriko spoke of," said one of the older Kagomes, her arthritic gait a little halting. "We feared you would not succeed in your reality, hampered as you are."

"Hampered? How am I hampered?" Kagome whispered. Her mind felt like it was caught in a dryer's spin-cycle, whirling round and round. She couldn't stop looking at them, studying their faces.

"By your protector in this reality," answered another one, this one rather fiercely scarred on her face and arms. "We were all disturbed to learn that Inuyasha is your guardian, instead of..." Her voice trailed away.

"Instead of who?" Kagome demanded. "What are you talking about?"

Midoriko stepped forward once more, the throng of Kagomes parting to let her through. "In every reality, the fates have declared that you will be paired with one who will assist your protection of the Shikon," she said. "Something went wrong in your reality... in all the others, Kikyo did not seal Inuyasha to the tree. She killed him outright. This is what has happened in all other realities."

Kagome thought hard. "So, if Kikyo wasn't supposed to seal Inuyasha, he wouldn't have been stuck to the Goshinboku, and I wouldn't have met him..." The other Kagomes were nodding, some even smiling. "So, what would have happened?"

"That is where the realities all differ," answered a third Kagome, this one ethereally lovely, with a face that could make an angel weep with envy. "In my reality, I was kidnapped by a warlord, to be made his concubine." She sighed. "Beauty is not always a blessing."

"In mine," said a fourth Kagome, this one seeming to be in her fifties, "I lived with Kaede, training with her until she died, and then became the village's miko."

"I was captured by Naraku," said a fifth, rather plain Kagome.

"On and on it goes," Midoriko intoned. "Yet in all realities, Kagome, there is one constant."

It sounded ominous. "What is it?" she asked, her voice a mere whisper.

"Our protector," said Beautiful Kagome.

"Our guardian," added Scarred Kagome.

"Our husband," finished Elderly Kagome.

Kagome blinked. "Husband?" She felt her equilibrium waver once more, and once more Midoriko soothed her. "If Inuyasha's supposed to be dead, then who is it?" She frowned. "Kouga?"

Plain Kagome laughed. "Not hardly," she said. "That one could never keep up with us."

Kagome thought harder. "Miroku?" Though the monk had wandering hands, he was very handsome, and she'd never admit it but his voice had a way of making a girl a little shivery down the spine...

"You could never keep up with _him_," replied Scarred Kagome with a smile.

Kagome wracked her brain for other eligible males, and paled when one sprung to mind... "Not Shippo," she gasped. "Don't tell me it's Shippo."

All the other Kagomes looked faintly queasy. "Not Shippo," Elderly Kagome assured her, and Kagome sighed with relief.

"Then who?" she demanded. "I can't think of anyone else."

The others looked vaguely disturbed at this. "Can you not?" asked Middle-Aged Kagome. "Is there no other man in your life who draws your interest, who makes your soul sing with completion?"

Kagome stared at her. _Okay,_ she thought_, if it's none of the good guys, then it must be one of the bad guys._ "Not Naraku," she stated, relieved when they nodded. "Um. Hiten?"

Elderly Kagome smiled. "Handsome, that one, but no." Seeing Kagome pale once more, she continued, "And no, not Manten either."

"Can you think of no other?" asked Scarred Kagome.

She could not, and said so. As one, they all turned to Midoriko, who took a deep breath before speaking.

"Long ago, Kagome, it was fated that the mikos connected to the Shikon—you, me, and Kikyo—would have a connection to a certain family. A certain _youkai_ family," she clarified. "We were meant to cross the boundaries between races, to mend the rift between us, to bring about a harmony where before had existed only hatred and death."

Midoriko clasped her hands tightly before her, staring down at them, her voice almost too soft to be heard as she continued. "I loved Inutaisho," she declared, and Kagome was amazed at the depth of longing and pain in those three words. "I still love him, though we are parted until my soul is released from the Shikon. Our love was the beginning of the bond, the first stitch of the needle meant to close the rip between ningen and youkai worlds."

Kagome gaped at her. "Inutaisho? Inuyasha's father? You were in love with _Inuyasha's_ _father_?" She was stunned. There hadn't been mention of that in any of the legends she'd heard of the famous miko's life.

"No one knew but we two," Midoriko replied. "We had so little time... so little time..." Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she ignored them. "Then there was Kikyo," she continued, determined to go on. "Kikyo loved Inuyasha, loved him with a passion bordering on madness. When she thought he had betrayed her... it did become madness. In all dimensions but your own, she slew him, and then died, herself. There is a special level of hell reserved for those who harm their love, but Inuyasha's devotion to her was no less than her own... willingly he followed her to hell, and willingly he remains, with her always."

She eyed Kagome with pity. "This shall be his fate in your reality, too. Always have you lamented his inability to love you in return. This is the reason. You are not meant to be his, nor is he to be yours."

"But, who then—" Kagome stopped short as realization burst into her mind. "Oh, god," she moaned. "If there's a bond between the mikos and the youkai of that family—and if it's not Inuyasha I'm supposed to be with—oh, god. Please don't tell me it's Sesshoumaru." She buried her face in her hands and muttered, "I'd prefer to marry Jaken."

Plain Kagome stepped forward then, and to Kagome's amazement, slapped her hard. "How dare you," she hissed, face alight with fury, and suddenly she wasn't so plain anymore. "How dare you malign him? In every one of our dimensions, he has defended you, protected you, _loved_ you beyond duty, or even reason."

Beautiful Kagome approached, her soothing touch on Plain Kagome's arm calming the other somewhat, but her expression was of carefully controlled anger. "You don't know him like we do," she said, her voice arctic, "and it upsets us to hear you mock and dismiss him like that."

Kagome held her sore cheek as tears started in her eyes. "But... but Sesshoumaru hates humans! He hates _me_! He's tried to kill me a dozen times!" She remembered one time, three years previously, that he'd nearly succeeded. Only Miroku's timely use of his Kazaana had saved her. She could still see, in her mind's eye, the glowing green poison that had streamed from Sesshoumaru's claws as he'd prepared to rake them across her throat...

And only a few months ago, he'd actually caught Sango's Hiraikotsu and flung it back at them, nearly taking them all out with a single throw. Only Inuyasha's agility had saved them, the hanyou taking the blow meant for the humans. It had nearly killed him, and he'd taken weeks to fully recover from his wounds. Briefly, she described these incidents to them.

The other Kagomes looked stunned, and turned to Midoriko. "Is this true?" Elderly Kagome asked the miko, her face troubled.

Midoriko nodded slowly, and immediately the area was filled with the protesting voices of all the Kagomes around them. "Impossible!" one declared, while another burst into noisy tears. "Perhaps he just pretended to try to kill her to hide his love for her?" suggested a third, clearly unable to accept that there might be a Sesshoumaru out there somewhere who was somewhat unpleasant.

"This is too weird," Kagome muttered to herself. She felt like the top of her head was about to come off. Try as she might, there was nothing she could imagine that would inspire her to such absolute devotion and faithfulness to Sesshoumaru. He was handsome, of course—on a scale of one to ten for good looks, he ranked in the upper hundreds—but he was so unfeeling and cruel and _cold_.

"Is he, though?" Midoriko asked, and Kagome realized she'd said those last words aloud. "Think harder, and tell me if your belief bears scrutiny. Think of the child, Rin. Would he restore her to life, would he raise her as his own daughter, if he were truly unfeeling and cruel? And think of Sesshoumaru's prowess with claw and blade. Like my Inutaisho, he cannot be defeated unless he allows the defeat. Why, then, does Inuyasha still live? Why do _you_?"

"There is something that holds him back," declared Scarred Kagome. "Though he doesn't know it yet."

Kagome stared mutely at Midoriko. "There is mercy in him," the miko continued, "mercy and kindness and love. It is not the love of a human, but still it is there." She smiled faintly. "Once you can see it as such, there is no missing it."

Kagome remembered how Sesshoumaru had stabbed his entire hand through Inuyasha's belly, the scene replaying in her mind in a constant loop. "I'm sorry," she said at last. "I just can't believe it." She turned in a slow circle, entreating the other Kagomes to believe her. "You don't know what he's done to us over the years, how he's attacked us."

"And yet you live," reminded Midoriko. "If he wanted you dead, you would be."

"So I'm supposed to infer, since I'm still alive, that he wants me that way?" Kagome demanded, rolling her eyes when the other Kagomes nodded and smiled, obviously pleased she'd finally understood. "You've got to be kidding me," she said flatly. "If just _existing_ is proof that Sesshoumaru loves me, then he must by definition also love everything else on the planet that he hasn't killed yet."

"Don't be obtuse," Elderly Kagome said severely. "Sesshoumaru has spared your life because he wants you to live."

"But why?" Kagome wailed, confusing bursting over her like an ocean wave. "Why?"

"One things you will learn about our Sesshoumaru," said Plain Kagome, "is that his immense patience is matched only by his curiosity."

Kagome felt distinctly queasy. The idea of his being 'her' Sesshoumaru made her stomach lurch alarmingly, as did the notion that she was going to get to know him better. "I don't understand," she said pitifully.

"He is curious about your power, and wants to learn more," clarified Beautiful Kagome. "That's how we all met him, in our dimensions. He heard about us, and wanted to know what was going on with the reincarnated miko."

"He is just waiting for the right moment to do something about it," added Scarred Kagome, and smiled at her sisters, all agreed in analyzing Sesshoumaru's motives.

"When's the right moment?" Kagome shouted, her patience all but gone. "When he punches another hole through Inuyasha? When he finally goes through with ripping my throat out?"

They all sighed, and turned once more to Midoriko. "It would seem," the miko said at last, "that you require more proof than our mere testimony."

"Darn right, I do," Kagome muttered, arms folded over her chest.

Midoriko nodded then, and a blurry sphere of glowing indigo seemed to float out the top of each Kagomes' head. One by one, they coursed slowly through the air toward Kagome. As each entered her, her body jolted, and consciousness quickly faded.

Finally the last sphere had burrowed into her, and Midoriko allowed the girl to pass out of their presence, leaving the time slip and entering her own era. Up out of the well Kagome's still form floated, coming to rest on the ground inside the shed where the well was housed.

"Will that be enough?" asked Elderly Kagome, back in the void. "Will our memories of our lives with him be enough to convince her to right this wrong?"

Midoriko sighed. "It must be," she said. "If she cannot overcome her distaste for him, I do not care to think of the repercussions to her world, for only with Sesshoumaru at her side can she finally defeat Naraku. Without him... her world will end."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Thanks to all reviewers, I'm glad you're enjoying it!

**One Less Star, Part 1  
Chapter 2  
**By CinnamonGrrl

The memories of all the other Kagomes blurred together in her head. Sesshoumaru, too, looked slightly different in each of them—amazingly, Beautiful Kagome's Sesshoumaru was startlingly homely, and Plain Kagome's Sesshoumaru was even more handsome than the one Kagome was familiar with. Elderly Kagome's husband preferred to shave his head completely bald, and Scarred Kagome's version of him preferred to wear his in a long plait down his back. 

In all of their realities, his sibling rivalry with Inuyasha had ended with his half-brother's death. There was no competition for Tetsusaiga, no creation of Toujikin, no loss of his left arm. Instead, there was remorse that he had not done well by his brother, that he had failed his father and himself by not protecting Inuyasha, leaving him instead to his death rather than trying to help him fight Naraku's machinations.

As the others had indicated, in each dimension, Sesshoumaru was intensely curious about the new miko who seemingly just appeared one day, and who was declared to be the reincarnation of the same priestess who'd loved and then killed his brother. In each reality, no matter what befell the Kagomes after coming through their respective wells, he'd sought her out, his first desire only to use her power to his benefit.

It would seem, however, that it didn't take long for attraction to flare between them, attraction that couldn't be resisted no matter how many defense mechanisms they both employed. Denial, rationalization, displacement... all were useless in the face of a love that seemed able to transcend race, hatred, alienation... even time and physics.

A lot of what Kagome saw confused her, but one thing was startlingly clear: all the _hims_ loved all the _hers_. He was no more expressive in those realities than in hers, but he was the very embodiment of the sentiment 'action speaks louder than words'. Time and again, he risked his own life to save hers, time and again he endangered himself for even the smallest chance of preventing harm to her.

And as vicious as he could be to his enemies, he was invariably gentle with her. Visions of his hands on her body as he made love to her, of his deft touch in tending their children, swamped Kagome. He was a careful man, every word and action exactly and only what he meant to say and do—nothing more, nothing less. Even when angry, his temper never spurred him to say things he would later regret.

_Not like Inuyasha_, Kagome thought, then felt shame, as if she'd betrayed Inuyasha somehow. But still the thought that Sesshoumaru wouldn't hurt her like his half-brother had for so long would not leave her...

Neither would those lovemaking memories. He was a shockingly sensual creature in any dimension, eager to the point of greed for touching, petting, stroking... it was something Kagome would never have suspected in his icy mien, but she had irrefutable proof in the form of mental images from thousands of lives.

Sesshoumaru licking raindrops from his lips, tasting its freshness. Sesshoumaru reclining in the boughs of a tree with her in his arms, throat arched as she trailed a leaf down its pale length. Sesshoumaru burying his face against the round belly of their daughter, inhaling her milky, powdery smell. Sesshoumaru rubbing his nude body against Kagome, relishing the feel of skin against skin.

And his eyes... how had she ever thought him stoic? Every expression left undisplayed on his face was shown to perfection in his exquisite golden eyes, there for all to see if only you knew how to recognize it.

Lifetime after lifetime ricocheted through Kagome's head, keeping her enthralled. Eagerly, she sifted through them, exploring and experiencing Sesshoumaru and their children and grandchildren until her starved heart was full to overflowing.

Nothing would wake her, not her grandfather's discovery of her on the floor of the well shed, not his panicked cries to her mother and Souta to help him get her in the house, not the visit of the doctor who declared her healthy and himself baffled as to why she was so stubbornly unconscious.

It was only days later, when Inuyasha burst from the well and stomped into the house ready to scream at her for being away from Sengoku Jidai so long, that she surfaced from her stupour.

"Where is she?" he demanded, at first not seeing her family's weariness and fright. "We need to get moving on finding Kohaku—what's wrong?" He looked around at them, wondering what could have them so upset. "Did something happen to Kagome? Tell me!"

Without waiting for their reply, however, he bounded up the stairs to her room, lurching to a halt in the doorway at the sight of her laying on her bed, waxen and so very still. "Kagome?" he whispered, feeling something very close to panic flare within him.

"Kagome?" he repeated louder. When there was no response, he went to her bedside and put his hand on her arm, jostling her gently. "Kagome!" He grasped her upper arms, hauling her up and shaking her. "Dammit, wake up!"

Kagome dragged herself up from the depths of all those memories at the sound of his voice. It was slow going, but the growing sense of horror that she was fated to be with Sesshoumaru—the part of her that couldn't accept it even in the face all those other realities—was eager to be awake and _herself_ again.

"Inuyasha?" she murmured, forcing her heavy eyelids open, relieved to see the familiar, anxious face in front of her. "Oh, good," she said, sagging against him.

He cradled her to his chest, looking over her head to her family in the doorway. Mrs. Higurashi had her hand over her mouth, trying desperately not to cry, and Kagome's grandfather was blinking rapidly. Souta dashed to them, his hand smoothing her hair as he bit his lip.

"We were so worried," was all he would say.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled, head lolling back on her neck. Inuyasha cupped her head in his hand, steadied it so she could look at her family. "I'm so sorry," she repeated. "I couldn't help it. But I'm glad to be back."

"Where did you go?" Souta asked.

"Time between time," Kagome replied dreamily, her eyes losing focus. "World between worlds... where all exists, and nothing. "All of me was there, yet I was nothing. I learned my destiny..." She strained to meet Inuyasha's eyes. "I learned your destiny, too." She closed her own, feeling very tired. "Stupid destinies."

With that pronouncement, she fell asleep. Mrs. Higurashi started forward, alarmed, but Inuyasha carefully laid her back against the pillows. "I think it's just regular sleep," he said. "What happened to her? What's she talking about?"

"We don't know," she replied shakily. "Grandfather found her in the well house. We haven't been able to wake her for days. I'm so glad you came!" she exclaimed suddenly, throwing her arms around Inuyasha.

He stood frozen, very uncomfortable with this display of affection and relief but bearing it impassively and even patting her shoulder awkwardly. "Er, right," he said after a while. "I'll just... go back and let everyone know she's alright."

Extricating himself from Mrs. Higurashi's embrace, he returned to the well and leapt down with one last glance toward the house. Kagome was always in some sort of weird trouble... he wondered, not for the first time, how she had managed not to inherit any of her predecessor's cool competence.

"She's not Kikyo," he reminded himself. "Kagome's not Kikyo."

* * *

"Who am I?" Kagome pondered yet again. Back in feudal Japan, back with her friends, back with Inuyasha yelling at her, she found it increasingly difficult to know the answer to that question. She hadn't said anything to Miroku or Sango, just that the Shikon was causing her to see and know things, but confided the entirety of her bizarre experience to Kaede. That miko had been amazed to hear Kagome's tale, and sadly unable to offer any counsel. 

"I am just as confused as ye are," she had said in her gravelly voice, sole eye solemn as it stared across the small fire to her pupil. "Ye are to be with Sesshoumaru—and a strange fate that is—but I cannot think of a way to make this happen." She observed Kagome's delicate shudder at his name. "Nor do ye want it to happen."

"No, I don't," Kagome agreed. No matter how wonderful he'd been in those other dimensions, in her reality, he was still someone who'd sooner gut her like a fish than look at her. No matter how the knowledge of all those other Kagomes had snuck into her heart, had softened it toward him...

Weeks passed, and she learned to push the memories back and concentrate on her life in that dimension. She became consumed, as they travelled looking for Kohaku, by thinking of ways to save him when they removed the life-giving shard from his back. Unfortunately, she returned again and again to the conclusion that only using the Shikon's wish would be able to restore him to the boy he'd been before Naraku had destroyed him.

"It has a certain symmetry, don't you think?" Kagome asked them all one night as they sat round the camp fire after dinner. Shippo was already asleep by her side with his head in her lap, fluffy tail curled warmly around his body and tickling his nose.

"What does?" Miroku asked, his intelligent gaze lighting up at the prospect of a philosophical discussion.

"Inuyasha fighting Naraku," Kagome replied, staring into the flames. Ever since her experience with Midoriko, she found herself thinking from a larger perspective, like she was watching everything happen from far above.

"Yes!" Sango exclaimed, understanding her friend's train of thought. "They're both hanyous."

"And they both seek to become more than they currently are," Miroku added. "It speaks of a dissatisfaction with the self, a belief that perfection is to be obtained externally... certainly a deviation from the Dharmic path..."

"Enough, bouzo," Inuyasha himself growled from his crouch across the fire, and buried his hands more deeply up his sleeves. "The only thing I'm dissatisfied with is the company I'm keeping."

"I cannot fault you for that," said a smooth, cold voice from the trees surrounding them, "but there is far more dissatisfactory about you than merely your companions."

They all leapt to their feet as Sesshoumaru stepped into the farthest reaches of the circle of firelight, Shippo jolting awake as Kagome wrapped her arms around him and staggered away from the new arrival until her back was against a tree.

"Oh, god," she moaned, clasping Shippo tighter as the memories she'd striven so hard to contain burst free once more. "No."

He was just as wildly beautiful as she remembered, his hair streaming to his knees and eyes gleaming gold in the light from the fire. Memories of those eyes burning down at her as his body pressed hers into their futon, moving deeply, _claiming_ her, scalded through her until her breath came more quickly.

"Gah," she said weakly, forcing herself to be in the moment instead of losing herself in another memory. His gaze flicked across the clearing to her and she felt paralyzed, skewered like a bug on a pin.

"Whaddya want, Sesshoumaru?" Inuyasha demanded sourly. "How many times do I have to tell you? You're not getting Tetsusaiga. You might as well give up."

"Give up?" His porcelain brow creased in genuine perplexment as he turned back to his half-brother. Clearly, the idea had never occurred to him before. Kagome couldn't prevent a smile at the idea... no, Sesshoumaru had no concept of giving up, in this world or any other.

Her smile faded quickly, however, when he looked her way again, and seeing that smile, frowned more deeply. "You have strayed onto my lands," he said. "You will explain why."

"We're not explaining anything," Inuyasha blustered, but Kagome gathered her courage, disentangled herself from Shippo, and approached. Shippo became increasingly agitated with her every step closer to the taiyoukai, until he was dancing back and forth on his fox feet.

"We didn't mean to trespass," she said as calmly as she could even as her stomach jumped within her, "but we're looking for a boy. He's got a shard."

"The last shard," he replied. At her nod, that cool golden gaze stared at her a long moment before shifting to each of their group in turn, settling on Sango. "Your brother."

"Yes," she whispered, her face pale and sallow in the firelight.

His face, implacable and expressionless, drew Kagome's gaze against her will and she blushed furiously when he looked at her again, catching her staring. Something flickered in his eyes at that, but he said only, "He is not in this Sesshoumaru's realm."

"How can you know that?" Inuyasha griped. "Even you—"

"Shut up, Inuyasha," Kagome said quietly, recalling from the other Kagomes' memories how completely aware of his lands Sesshoumaru was. If he said Kohaku wasn't there, he wasn't there. "If he says Kohaku isn't here, he's not here."

Inuyasha fell into a silence borne more from outrage than agreement, sputtering as his hands clenched spastically. "Stupid girl," he managed at last. "You—"

"You will leave immediately," Sesshoumaru interrupted. "You will not wait for the morning." He was still looking at Kagome, studying her, and she was reminded of how the other _hers_ had said he was curious about her.

"We didn't mean to trespass," she repeated softly. He stared a moment longer, knowing it for the apology it was, then nodded once and turned to go.

_It all happened so quickly,_ Kagome thought with dismay. One moment Sesshoumaru was leaving their meagre encampment, and the next Inuyasha had drawn Tetsusaiga, transformed it, and rushed at his brother's unsuspecting back.

Was it her indrawn breath that alerted Sesshoumaru, she wondered, or some primordial ability to sense wind currents or even mere intentions? In any case, one gasp, and Toujikin was out, swept around to block Inuyasha's strike with a clash that rang off the trees and made the wildlife in the area scurry to safer ground.

Sesshoumaru said not a word as they fought, but there was something about his eyes that put Kagome in mind of disappointment, and she knew that he had intended to let them leave his lands unharmed. He had not provoked Inuyasha, and even now his technique was more defense than offense.

_He's just holding Inuyasha off,_ Kagome thought, aware that her perception was now laced with the experience of a thousand other Kagomes and their knowledge of how Sesshoumaru fought. There was no true heat to his actions, just an almost-weary matching of his brother's blows.

And Inuyasha knew it, too. Infuriated, he leapt up and launched himself at Sesshoumaru, moving more quickly than anyone had ever seen him. Utterly heedless of his own safety, he allowed his half-brother to get within his guard so he could plant Tetsusaiga in the dead centre of Sesshoumaru's chest. A split second later, Toujikin found a home between Inuyasha's own ribs.

Once more, time seemed to still for Kagome. It slowed and thickened, and panic threatened to choke her, panic and horror and terrible, terrible loss... Arms dropping from around Shippo, flinging herself forward, she screamed.

"No, let me go," she moaned when Miroku dashed forward to subdue her. Slowly, painfully, the two brothers withdrew their swords from each other's chests and fought to stand without listing to the side. "Let me go to him."

Miroku's dark blue eyes were intent and very serious as he stared at her, struggling to hold her back. "Kagome," he said, "no. You can't get in their way."

"I have to go to him," she panted, fighting him. He appealed mutely to Sango for assistance.

"There's... there's something wrong with you," Sango said, wrapping her arms around her friend's waist and hauling her back. Together, she and Miroku managed to drag Kagome away from the demons as they resumed their battle.

"There's something wrong with _you_," Kagome shot back, slumping against them when it became clear they would not let her go. "I can't believe you won't let me go help Inuyasha."

Sango and Miroku exchanged a glance over her head. "Kagome," Sango said, "it wasn't Inuyasha's name you called, just now."

Eyes wide, Kagome shook her head stubbornly. "Of course it was," she said. "Inuyasha's my friend and I love him and..." She burst into tears. "Oh, no, no..." The truth crashed over her like a tsunami. She couldn't separate the other Kagomes from herself, couldn't stuff their memories and their love for Sesshoumaru into a dusty corner of her mind.

What they knew, she knew. What they felt, she felt. Their fate was hers. She curled up against Sango and wept at the knowledge that she loved him, loved a demon that likely wanted her dead.

When a lull came in their fight, when their swords fell silent for a moment, the sound of her crying filled the clearing.

"What's wrong with her?" Inuyasha demanded, one hand clutching his bloodied side as he parried a thrust.

"I don't know!" Shippo wailed, dancing in agitation once more at Kagome's side. "She's acting all weird."

"Inuyasha," Sesshoumaru said, even as he aimed Toujikin at his brother's head, "your miko is in distress."

"Since when do you care what happens to her?" Inuyasha snarled, dodging and slashing. "And why's she yelling your name and apologizing and—_what's going on between you?_"

"You should tend to her," was all Sesshoumaru would say in reply, and though Inuyasha leapt forward with desperate speed, Sesshoumaru flew skyward with alarming velocity, disappearing into the velvet night.

And below, on the ground, Kagome sobbed.

* * *

Winter slid into spring, and in contrast to the rising temperature, things between Kagome and the rest of their little group cooled. Kagome became more quiet, almost withdrawn, either oblivious or apathetic to the concerned glances of Miroku, Sango, Kaede and Shippo. Any inquiry as to her condition was answered with a cheerful but unconvincing avowal of being "just fine!"

As for Inuyasha, he seemed almost relieved, as if he'd never been able to truly believe she'd be loyal to him, had always expected her to betray him, glad to be proven right even if being right meant he lost something precious.

"Inuyasha," Miroku said one day, "you are the very definition of the phrase 'cutting off your nose to spite your face'."

"Feh," replied Inuyasha.

They stayed assiduously away from the Western Lands, and if Kagome were found staring in that direction more often than not, no one ever remarked upon it. Kohaku's movements were erratic, illogical, and Sango commented that Naraku was purposefully sending his servant all over to keep them busy.

"It makes no sense, otherwise," she said softly, but secretly was pleased it was taking longer than it should. Every day spent chasing him without success was another day she didn't have to watch him die.

They were glad, one week, when word reached them of Kohaku being seen in the South; this was not a mild spring, and they were eager to escape the worst of its severity by traveling to warmer climes. Still, it was chilly, and Kagome gratefully accepted Sango's offer of a spare kimono to wear over her jeans and sweater, rubbing her arms through it to warm them up.

Shippo spent much of his time wrapped up in his tail, and Kagome was strongly reminded of that fluffy thing on Sesshoumaru's shoulder. Over the years, she and Miroku and Sango had discussed their suspicions of what it was. She knew now, of course, that it was an heirloom pelt, the tail of an ancient inu-youkai passed down from one Western Lord to the next and magically enchanted to obey the will of its owner, but did not share her newfound knowledge with the others.

She rather liked knowing something about Sesshoumaru that they didn't, as if she were keeping a secret of his, though he had not entrusted it to her in this reality. There were so many things she knew about him now, small things and large, and she hugged them to her like gems, trotting them out to admire every once in a while.

Kagome thought of him often, of course, and wondered how he fared, what he was doing. His lands were extensive and required a lot of attention. In the other realities, she'd traveled far and wide with him as he supervised his realm. Many a child had been conceived during those wanderings, she recalled: in a meadow thick with flowers, their heady scent swirling round as they made love, or a hot spring whose waters caressed them like a thousand fingers, washing away their sweat as they strove against each other.

Did she miss him? Impossible to say, as she'd never really spent any length of time with him in this dimension. Would he be able to get past the antagonism between him and her group of friends, she wondered? It was not a missing per se, she decided, as much as a longing to know him in the first place. No matter how vivid those memories of the other Kagomes might be, still they were no substitute to actual experience in this reality. _Their_ Sesshoumarus were not _this_ Sesshoumaru, for all the similarities between them.

She was therefore rather pleased, though she took care to hide it, when he appeared to them one day as they traveled through the South. This time Ah-Un was with him, and there was a dark bundle draped across the dragon-youkai's back...

"Your brother," he said briefly to Sango. With a glad cry, she ran to Ah-Un and pulled Kohaku to the ground, hugging him and weeping even as he lay there without moving, arms and legs bound tightly. "He is still under Naraku's control, and not to be trusted," he told Kagome, since Sango was past hearing or caring.

Miroku, meanwhile, was having trouble restraining Inuyasha. "Why?" raged the hanyou. "Why did you bring him to us? And why are you staring at Kagome, dammit?"

A tiny, catlike smirk curled the edge of Sesshoumaru's lips, so faint one might think they'd imagined it. He flicked a negligent glance at Inuyasha and said, "This Sesshoumaru need not explain himself to the likes of you."

Laughter bubbled from Kagome for some reason, though she choked it back when his gaze returned to her. "Um, sorry," she said. "It was just... funny."

"Funny," he repeated, as if he'd never heard the word before. "Clarify."

"You're just so... calm," she said, feeling very nervous and yet exhilarated at the same time. She was actually _talking_ to him! Having a conversation! "And Inuyasha's… not. It's just a funny contrast."

"Mhm," Sesshoumaru said noncommittally. "Indeed." Kagome beamed at him. Miroku frowned, worried. Inuyasha just foamed at the mouth a bit more.

"Why _did_ you bring Kohaku to us?" she ventured after a few more moments of beaming. "I mean," she babbled, "I'm sure you have far more important things to do, and—"

"I, Sesshoumaru, found the boy on my lands," he interrupted. "It is unacceptable for Naraku or any of his puppets or minions to foul my realm; therefore, I sought to remove his blight."

"Why didn't you just kill him?" Miroku asked, but received no reply.

"Yeah," Inuyasha snarled, straining to get at Sesshoumaru. "Since when are you so reluctant to spill blood?" This, too, was ignored.

"We have to take the shard out," Kagome said. Sesshoumaru nodded. "It will kill him." Another nod, and inspiration struck her. "Would you—if it's not too much trouble—if you don't mind, that is—"

Sesshoumaru frowned. "You will cease blathering," he declared. "Speak."

She spoke. "Can you use Tenseiga on him? To bring him back after we take out the shard?" She knew she looked pathetically hopeful, eyes huge and hands clasped against her chest, but couldn't help herself.

Another long, hard stare on his part, and then he nodded. "If the sword wishes to revive him, I will wield it."

Happiness flooded Kagome as it hadn't done in a long time. She bounced a little, barely restraining herself from throwing her arms around him in gratitude and delight. It didn't help any that she could remember quite well how good it felt to be in his arms, either. Well, arm—in this dimension, he only had the one.

"I've been wondering," she blurted unthinkingly. "How long before your arm regenerates completely?" She eyed the left side of his body. "It should be halfway back by now, right?" She paused. "It doesn't hurt, does it?"

A tiny widening of his eyes was the only indication of his surprise. "No," he replied, "it does not hurt."

"Oh, good," she replied, and smiled sunnily at him.

Inuyasha was positively _frothing_ at this point. "Perhaps we should get on with it," Miroku suggested smoothly.

Sesshoumaru cut his gaze toward Kohaku. "He will have to be restrained," he said, "for he will not be pleased to lose the shard." He fixed Inuyasha with a cold look. "Can you be trusted to control yourself for a short while?"

A faint blush tinged Inuyasha's cheeks; he was being scolded for childishness, and he knew it. "Yeah," he grumbled, adjusting his haori when Miroku released him.

"This is it," Kagome said to Sango, joining her friend. "Sesshoumaru says he'll use Tenseiga on Kohaku… and if that doesn't work, I'll just put the Shikon together and use the wish to bring him back." She closed her eyes against the scream of outrage that rent the air when Inuyasha heard her. "One way or another, Kokahu's going to live."

Sango's face was luminous as she gazed up at her friend. "Thank you," she whispered to Kagome, then repeated it to Sesshoumaru, standing behind her. Carefully, she rolled Kohaku to his front and placed her hands firmly on shoulder and hip to hold him down. Miroku knelt at his other side, and Kagome crouched at his head just in case. She glared at Inuyasha until he came forward, but he was plainly still furious at Kagome's little announcement.

Reaching down, Inuyasha used a razor-sharp claw to slit open Kohaku's clothing and the faintly glowing skin of his back. Parting the flesh with two careful fingers, he used the tips of his claws to pincer the shard from its resting place.

At the first touch of his claws on the shard, Kohaku began to buck and writhe like the possessed thing that he was. Everyone grabbed what they could of him, and Inuyasha plucked the shard out entirely. Kohaku went berserk, flailing and spasming, and then quite suddenly he went completely limp.

"He's dead," Inuyasha said quietly, his fist clenched around the bloody shard.

Sango swallowed hard, then looked to Sesshoumaru, watching impassively beside them. He stepped forward, unsheathing Tenseiga, and waited. The sword did not move, did not transform or glow or anything. "The sword does not wish to revive him," he said at last, and made to replace it in its scabbard.

"Wait," Kagome said, leaping to her feet. "Let me try." She reached for the sword, but quailed back at the look of frozen hostility on his face. "I just thought," she faltered, "since I was able to pull the Tetsusaiga from the stone…"

No response. "C'mon," she entreated, "let me give it a shot." She reached for it again, trusting blindly in the memories of the other Kagomes that he would not hurt her even as he became, somehow, even more blank and cold.

The moment she touched Tenseiga's hilt, it pulsed to life, glowing with an intensity that was nearly blinding. Sesshoumaru lowered his head, staring up at Kagome with such an expression of consternation that she felt the disastrous reaction of giggling bubble up in her, and bit her lip viciously to keep it from escaping.

"Wow," Shippo said. "Kagome made Sesshoumaru's sword come alive."

Inexplicably, Kagome's face decided to blush furiously at that. Miroku choked back a laugh, Sango was hard-pressed to hide her smile, and even Sesshoumaru himself allowed his scowl to lessen several degrees, going so far as to quirk one silvery brow a millimeter or so.

Inuyasha just glowered at them and shouted, "Move it! I've got a wish to make!"

Sesshoumaru shot his brother a look of pure dislike and stepped closer to Kohaku's inert form and made to slash at the soul-stealers crouching around him. But the moment Kagome's hand fell from the sword's hilt, its glow faded. He shot a disgruntled look over his shoulder at her, and she came forward.

"Guess we have to do it together, huh?" _Darn_, she thought. _Blushing again_. "Um."

He made a noise in his throat that spoke of great impatience, and she forced herself to forget her embarrassment. "Stand before me," he directed, and she did, placing her hand not on the hilt but, feeling bold, directly over his own hand. A tiny tremor ran through him at the contact, _of surprise, or something more?_ she wondered.

The sword pulsed once more, and he swung at the creatures already devouring Kohaku's soul. One sweep, two, and they were gone. Kohaku stirred and mumbled something intelligible, and Sango lunged for him.

"It is done," Sesshoumaru said, quietly, as Kagome watched the reunion between sister and brother. "It is done," he repeated testily, his voice close enough to her ear that she shivered, remembering all those other times in all those other realities... "You will cease touching me now," he commanded at last, and Kagome blinked to realize her hand was still over his on the sword.

"Sorry!" she squeaked, snatching her hand away as if burnt, eyeing him cautiously. "I have another favour to ask you," she ventured when he turned and would have walked away.

The faint motion of his chest suggested a sigh. He said nothing, did not even look at her, but waited. She took that as a grudging willingness to at least hear her out. "I was hoping—I thought maybe you could—if it wouldn't be too much of a bother—"

Sesshoumaru spun back to glare at her. "Right," she said, interrupting herself. "Blathering. I'll start over." Deep breath. "Could you please take half of the Shikon?" she blurted out. "Until Naraku is defeated?"

He narrowed those magnificent eyes at her. "Why?"

"Yeah, why?" demanded Inuyasha, who'd been shamelessly eavesdropping. He stomped over to them, face like a thundercloud. "I don't believe you! What the hell are you thinking? Have you somehow forgotten that the Shikon is mine, stupid? After all—"

His words were abruptly cut off when Sesshoumaru's fist slammed right into his mouth, causing him to sail backwards about thirty feet. "Do not interrupt," the taiyoukai said calmly before returning his attention to Kagome. "Continue."

She stared up at him with something akin to wonder. Not once in all these years had anyone ever taken Inuyasha to task for his rudeness to her. It felt glorious, and Kagome found herself stammering a little as she tried to reply. "All... all I know is that the time's not right for anyone to make a wish with the Shikon, not yet. We have to wait," she said at last. "And I'm worried about Naraku. If he somehow gets his hands on the jewel, there's no telling what he'll do."

She ignored Inuyasha's distant grumbling about the jewel being gone soon if only she'd let him make his wish. From what Midoriko had said, it was clear to Kagome that Inuyasha was never meant to become fully youkai. She had to keep the jewel safe from everyone, from Inuyasha as well as Naraku, until she knew better what to do with it.

It made her a little sad, this need to wait, because she knew the longer it was in fragments, the longer Midoriko had to wait until her soul was her own once more and she could be with her beloved Inutaisho again.

She sighed. "If it's in two halves, and he can't get to at least one of them, then we know he's not up to something… bad."

"Why me?"

"Well, duh," she said, frowning at him, recalling Midoriko's words_: Like my Inutaisho, he cannot be defeated unless he allows the defeat._ "Because he can't beat you. If you have half the Shikon, he'll never get it."

"You are so sure of me, then?" he asked, sounding… amused?

"Shouldn't I be?" Kagome countered. "Who better?" If she hadn't been aware of his skill and strength before her little incident in the well, she now had thousands of memories to back up her assertion.

"Who, indeed?" Sesshoumaru murmured. "I will do this," he said at last, and held out his hand.

"The hell you will!" declared Inuyasha, bounding forward, hands outstretched. "Not after all these years." He shoved Kagome back, going nose to nose with Sesshoumaru. "If you think I'm gonna let you hand half the Shikon over to him, you're crazy."

"You don't _let_ me do anything, Inuyasha," Kagome snapped. "I don't answer to you. I'm doing what Midoriko tells me to do, and she said that Sesshoumaru is going to help me protect the jewel until we can defeat Naraku."

Sesshoumaru's golden gaze flickered. "Midoriko?" he asked. "You… speak to her?"

Kagome flushed. "Just the once," she said demurely, not wanting to seem like she was bragging.

Sesshoumaru turned to Inuyasha. "You are an idiot," he told him calmly, "and clearly unable to handle being a full youkai. For this reason, and to keep Naraku at bay, I will take half of the jewel until such time as your miko declares it safe to reunite them. No," he continued when Inuyasha tensed to spring at him, "do not bother to fight me. I weary of you, and it would not trouble me overmuch to kill you."

"So you say every time," Inuyasha sneered. "And you never can."

"It's not that he can't, Inuyasha, just that he won't," Kagome interjected, wondering even as she spoke where the words were coming from. She suspected she was channeling one of the Kagomes… Scarred Kagome, perhaps? "He's always been able to take you down. He just didn't want to."

Sesshoumaru stared at her while Inuyasha just sputtered impotently, reaching again for the jewel.

"Osuwari," Kagome sighed, and Inuyasha's face was firmly planted into the ground at their feet. Before he could recover, she slapped half the jewel into Sesshoumaru's hand. "You should go now," she said, "or he'll just start whining again."

He tucked it into the breast of his haori. "You are a strange girl," he commented.

She laughed weakly. "You have no idea."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all my reviewers! I'm so glad you're enjoying this story :)

This chapter reveals what I was talking about in the summary when I say that Kohaku is a bendy mannequin. All now becomes clear...

Hope you enjoy this chapter. Thanks again :)

**Chapter 3**

Two things of note happened immediately following Sesshoumaru's departure. First, Sango began trying to engage Kohaku in conversation or show any sort of reaction at all, really. But though he was alive, Kohaku showed no response to any sort of stimulation, sitting limply and remaining in whatever position Sango placed him. Sango burst into tears, necessitating a lengthy amount of comforting from Kagome and Shippo and Kirara and delaying their return to Edo.

Then, when they were on their way once more (Kohaku able to walk once you got him started) Kagome and Inuyasha got into a blazing row about the fate of the shard removed from Kohaku's back: he flatly, absolutely, and categorically refused to relinquish it to her.

"You might give it to _Sesshoumaru_," he sneered, eyes blazing with fury. "I can't believe you'd do this to me, Kagome. You know how long I've wanted this, what I've gone through for it." He paced around the clearing, waving his arms for emphasis. "And now we have all the shards—every one of them!—and you won't put the damned thing together so I can make my wish! Where do you get off!"

They argued for hours, and Inuyasha was unwilling to believe Kagome's repeated statements of the time simply not being right for the jewel to be completed. She knew it was a vague and unsatisfactory explanation, but what else could she do? Telling him the truth was impossible, and would only spur him to greater heights of rage.

Kagome slumped by the fire Miroku had started to cook their meagre dinner and stared glumly into its flames. When no answer was forthcoming from her this time, Inuyasha gave a short scream of frustration and leapt up into the air, determined to put as much space between them as possible without actually leaving the kingdom.

She sighed, and wished she could speak to Midoriko at that moment. If Inuyasha was never meant to become fully youkai, then what was to be the fate of the Shikon no Tama? Only an unselfish wish would preserve its newfound purity. Who could be trusted to make such a wish? Everyone she knew would use it for personal gain.

Even things that seemed unselfish upon their surface were not so… Sango might use it to heal Kohaku's damaged soul, but it would really be so she didn't have to see her brother so broken and forlorn in his sorrow over his actions, committed as they had been under Naraku's foul enslavement.

Kagome might use it to bring about world peace or eliminate famine and disease but that, too, was more because she was uncomfortable with those concepts rather than true concern over their existence. Miroku would use it to end the curse upon his family, and Shippo would just wish for a lifetime supply of pocky.

Finally, worn out by fighting with Inuyasha, Kagome fell gratefully into a deep, exhausted sleep after eating dinner. Her dreams were far from restful: she saw death and destruction and flames consuming the world… crying out in despair, a comforting touch on her arm sent comfort and safety spreading through her.

"Midoriko?" Kagome said breathlessly, painfully relieved to find a kind, welcome face in this realm of anguish. "Hi," she said to the miko, who did not turn her gaze from the velvet sky.

"There remains one less star than there ought to be," Midoriko commented, then fixed her black gaze on Kagome. "You are fighting your feelings for him."

"I have to," Kagome replied immediately. "I'm not… unaffected by the other Kagomes' memories, but the Sesshoumaru I have to deal with is not the same as the ones they fell in love with. _I_ am not the same as they are."

"Because of Inuyasha," Midoriko stated. "His survival in your dimension has changed both you and Sesshoumaru from being who you were destined to be. You feelings are still engaged by him, when they should be turning to Sesshoumaru. And the taiyoukai feels greater anger, greater alienation and resentment, because of his brother's interference in his life. These shall be mighty obstacles to overcome."

She took Kagome's hands suddenly, staring deeply into the girl's eyes with an intensity that bordered on frightening. "You must work harder," she told her, voice strong and compelling. "Something dark is coming, and you do not have the strength to conquer it alone, nor even with your friends, the demon-hunter and the monk."

"What about Inuyasha?" Kagome quavered, even though she feared the answer. "He'll be able to conquer it, won't he?"

Midoriko looked immeasurably sad. "I am afraid," she said, "that Inuyasha _is_ the coming darkness, Kagome."

"No," Kagome whispered, as denial and an awful sort of fear welled within her. "I don't believe it. Inuyasha's always been… rough, but he's not evil."

"No," Midoriko agreed, "but the shard he bears _is_, and Inuyasha is susceptible to its taint. Heed me, Kagome. There will come a time when he tries to take the remaining shards you carry. When this time comes, you must not falter. If to contain and protect them he must die, then you must kill him."

Kagome jerked her hands out of the miko's grasp. "You don't know what you're talking about," she ground out, angry. "Inuyasha's just a little desperate at the moment, because of Naraku and wanting the wish so badly. But he'd never try to take the other shards from me."

"You know so well the contents of his heart, then?" Midoriko asked quietly. Kagome thought, of course, of Kikyo. Kikyo, and Inuyasha's unswerving devotion to her. No matter how many times she tried to kill him, betray him, hurt him, his love for her was unshakeable.

His love for Kagome, however, was definitely an unknown quantity. If it even existed at all… she knew he was fond of her as a friend, but no matter how she'd tried, she'd never been able to get a clear declaration out of him. "It's easy for you," she settled for lashing out, "up here, away from it all, to just tell me to kill my best friend."

"Easy?" Midoriko seemed to grow about three feet, and her anger was a palpable, crackling thing. "He is the son of my beloved, the son I would have given Inutaisho, were my fate to die childless not carved in the stone of the cave in which I perished. Do you think I relish the idea of knowing I send the child of my heart to his death?"

Kagome felt shame at her words, and bowed her head. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "No, I don't think it's easy for you. I… I forgot about Inutaisho and you." She paused. "I want to hurry to defeat Naraku so we can complete the jewel and make a wish and set your soul free to be with him, you know."

Midoriko placed a hand on Kagome's shoulder. "I thank you for that," said she, "but please, do not rush anything. Do not risk failure out of pity for me." She squared her shoulders. "Our reunion is the least of all worries, though it be deeply wanted."

Kagome nodded to show she understood, though she felt great pity for the miko and her love. It was such a strange concept, the idea of the greatest miko of Japan's past so much in love with her greatest enemy, the taiyoukai Inutaisho.

"I don't know what to do," she said at last, shoulders slumping in defeat. "All I know is that I can't kill Inuyasha."

"I know this," Midoriko replied, her eyes kind. "That is why you need Sesshoumaru. Where you falter, he will endure."

"I can't let anyone else kill him, either," Kagome continued miserably. She couldn't even imagine herself standing by while someone tried to bring Inuyasha down.

"Selfish girl," Midoriko admonished. "Not even to save your friends? Your family? Your entire world?"

"I… don't think I'm a very strong person," said Kagome, wringing her hands. "I'm afraid most of the time. And I'm pretty sure that I don't have it in me to kill him, even if it means not saving the world."

"Where you falter, Sesshoumaru will endure," the miko repeated. "You would place undeserved faith in Inuyasha… I ask that you place it also in his brother."

"Half-brother," Kagome corrected automatically.

Midoriko nodded before continuing, slowly, as if unsure she was supposed to be saying this. "If you wish to know more about sacrifice, about offering up one's own joy for the sake of others… there is a single chronicle recounting the tale of Inutaisho and myself. This world would have ended up much differently, had we made other choices…" Her voice trailed away, becoming thick and misty with tears. "It is in Sesshoumaru's possession."

Kagome gasped. "He knows about you and his father?"

She nodded. "He inherited everything of Inutaisho's upon his father's death."

Frustration burst suddenly within Kagome. "Why?" she raged. "Why does it have to be Sesshoumaru? Why couldn't it be Inuyasha?"

Midoriko's eyes were very patient and kind. "Because he is weak, just as Kikyo was and is weak. Because the fates needed stronger souls, purer souls, to forge this final bond. Inutaisho and myself, Kikyo and Inuyasha, we were just foundations for the union between you and Sesshoumaru. You are a refinement of Kikyo's soul, an improvement of it. And Sesshoumaru… I blessed him when he was born, poured an immense amount of my power into enhancing him.

"Together," she continued, "you are the pinnacle of what was intended when these six lives were fated to mend the rift between races, between worlds. There can be no greater chance for us than you and Sesshoumaru, Kagome. Fail, and you doom all who come after to lives of strife, warfare, misery and death."

"But no pressure," Kagome muttered, and Midoriko smiled.

"If you will only let yourself," she said, "I think you will find that it is not so very difficult to fall in love with Sesshoumaru."

"If I ever manage to spend any time with him!" Kagome exclaimed. "So far it's been a grand total of fifteen minutes in the past three months."

Midoriko fixed Kagome with one last look before turning her gaze up to the endless, depthless sky surrounding them. "You will have ample opportunity," she said to the stars, "and far sooner than you expect."

* * *

"I thought you said he would be back by now," Kagura snapped at the diminutive toad-youkai standing by the shoji screen door, and impatiently tapped her fan against the palm of her hand as she paced around the room.

He clenched his three-fingered hand so tightly around his staff that it creaked alarmingly. "Lord Sesshoumaru is not beholden to any but himself on the issue of when he returns to his own home," Jaken replied through gritted beak. "Least of all one such as you, child of Naraku."

She hissed as she spun around to face him, scarlet eyes slitted with anger. "I told you not to call me that."

"This Jaken does as he pleases," the toad-youkai replied with a touch of smugness. "If you would but sit and be silent, there would be no need for discourse, and I would not feel obligated to insult you."

To his surprise, she laughed, reaching out to glide long fingers over the glossy surface of a high, narrow table. "Just doing your duty by me then, are you?"

He did not understand her amusement, and glowered at her. "Indeed," he said repressively.

The door was thrust open, and Sesshoumaru stepped into the room. "Kagura," he addressed her, "you honour me."

"I highly doubt you see it as an honour, but your manners are impeccable," she purred, her smile unfaltering even in the face of his stoniest expression. "You're as eager to get rid of me as I am to leave, I'm sure, so I'll just get right to it, shall I?"

Sesshoumaru inclined his head in agreement and made his way around the low desk, unbuckling his swords and dropping easily to his knees. "Jaken," he said, "tea." Once Jaken was gone—not before he'd shot Kagura a last dark glance from his bilious yellow eyes, however—Sesshoumaru returned his attention to the demoness.

"I am no longer an associate of Naraku," Kagura said without preamble. "Having left his protection, I seek yours."

There was not a single twitch of facial muscle, not a flutter of eyelash, to indicate his reaction to her statement. "I see," was all he said. "Why?"

"I broke trust with him," she replied flatly, her shoulders tense in their heavily embroidered kimonos. "I cost him his dearly-wanted victory over Inuyasha and the girl, cost him his shards. Without them, he is severely compromised. And he..." she faltered a moment. "He is vicious even when happy," she continued after a moment. "When displeased... betrayed... he will come after me, once he marshals his strength once more after this defeat."

"And why," Sesshoumaru asked, "would I wish to align myself with such a liability?"

"Though not equal to the task of defeating Naraku by myself," said Kagura, "still I am a formidable ally, and would not shame you in any battles you might wage."

"What of your loyalty?" he asked. His hand rested lightly on his knee, and his entire form was motionless except for the movement of his mouth when he spoke. So still, so pale, Kagura was put in mind of nothing so much as a beautiful marble statue. "You betrayed your first master; what assurance do I have you would not betray your second?"

"My loyalty is to myself," she said, eyes flashing. "A good master shall have a good servant. Naraku... was not a good master." There was a world of sentiment left unspoken there; Sesshoumaru did not comment on it, nor ask any questions.

"I would not hesitate to destroy you, should you even contemplate betraying me," he told her at last. Somehow, though even Kagura's eyesight was keen, she did not see him move until he was across the room, his hand at her throat, pressing her up against the wall so her feet dangled above the floor. "And if you think to conquer me, to take my place as taiyoukai of the West, you are deluded. You would not win."

"Such is not my intent," Kagura managed to say, wheezing a little as her airway was constricted. He stared at her a long moment, gold eyes piercing scarlet, before nodding, apparently satisfied. Slowly, carefully, he lowered her to the floor.

"Your first task," he said, "is to locate and follow Inuyasha and his companions."

"Your brother requires a nanny?" Kagura asked, red lips parting in a delighted smile. She always had been able to recover quickly. "How amusing."

"Half-brother," he corrected flatly. "And your role is as informant, not nanny. You are not to give assistance or interference; they are not to know you are there. I wish only intelligence on their whereabouts and actions. Nothing more."

She could do that, and easily. "Nothing more?" she asked. "What if danger befalls them?"

His beautiful face was blank as he gazed at her. "Then you shall report to me of their injuries or deaths."

Kagura nodded. "It shall be done." Bowing low, she left the room, satisfied that her intentions had been accomplished. There were none so powerful as Sesshoumaru, not in all the lands of the compass, and with him as benefactor her lifespan had just increased dramatically.

Now, all she had to do was find Inuyasha's merry band of miscreants...

* * *

Kagome watched as Shippo tried without success to engage Kohaku in conversation. The past three days had been awful. It was horrible to watch his dull eyes stare out at nothing for hours at end; she could only imagine how it was for Sango, whose overly bright eyes and too-wide smile did not manage to belie her grief.

Shippo's big sad eyes pled with her to _do_ something. "Sango-chan," she said, "there's a stream nearby, let's have a bath while we can." She made her voice as cheerful as she could manage, but even so, its hollow ring was evident even to herself.

Sango recognized it for the overture it was, and nodded, standing to gather her bathing things. Soon, Miroku was watching as she and Kagome headed to the hot springs, each tossing a look of warning over their shoulder at him, and sighed. There had been so many changes in the time since Kokahu's recovery, and everyone was on edge.

Himself especially... with all the emotional upheaval, he'd thought his usual application of hands to various parts of the women's bodies in poor taste and had restrained himself most admirably, in his opinion.

It had not been easy. Sango, attempting to engage Kohaku to take more interest in the world around him, had left off wearing her kimono in favour of simply flitting about in her snug taijiya uniform and trying to coax her brother to join her in katas and sparring.

And Kagome, though she no longer wore the tiny green kimono of her younger years, wore her new outfit of snug trousers called "jeans", quite admirably, in Miroku's connoisseurial opinion. Today was no different; the "jeans" were paired with something named a "sweater", a knit fabric that clung in such interesting ways to two of the most fascinating parts of her excellent figure.

He allowed himself a few ungracious thoughts, hoping that Kohaku would speed his embrace of life so Miroku wouldn't feel quite so lecherous about groping the two ladies. His palm had begun to itch, and it had nothing to do with the curse upon it...

Clearly, some meditation was in order.

Miroku made sure that Shippo and Kirara were with Kohaku, told an apathetic Inuyasha where he was going ("Keh!") and headed in the opposite direction from that which the women had taken. He found a comfortable niche at the base of a tree, by a softly tinkling stream, and settled in for a nice long zazen.

He relaxed his muscles and allowed his senses to expand, to reach beyond the boundaries of mere experience, to tap into absolute knowledge, and it wasn't long before he realized he was being observed.

But his watcher, though not human, was not overly malignant and Miroku decided to let him come forward on his own volition. He soon tired of the wait, however, when long moments passed and his watcher did not reveal himself.

"I know you are there," he called softly. "Show yourself."

Kagura watched as the houshi sighed, watching the two females leave for their bathing. In the days she had been observing them, she had sensed a rather strong urge within him, barely leashed. It was not the dark urge to harm and kill she was accustomed to sensing within her fellow youkai, however. It was more akin to hunger, but of a different sort from the hunger for nourishment, or thirst.

_Must be the urge to rut,_ she thought. She'd heard of such things, and indeed Naraku was always holding forth about the succulence of ripe flesh and all the things he'd like to do with the young miko when he captured her… after the first few thousand times, Kagura had ceased listening. She had no interest in hearing about his plans for sexual tortures.

She herself had never felt the urge, and contemplated that if the monk were so fervently desirous of it, perhaps she was missing something. The monk… more than once, she'd seen his hand reach out to grasp soft, rounded flesh, only holding himself back at the last moment.

Kagura wondered at his chosen profession. Why would one with such obviously powerful drives decide to become one for whom the temptations of the flesh were to be avoided, even scorned? It seemed rather... self-defeating. Despite her congenital distaste for humanity as a whole, she was intrigued.

Kagura followed as the houshi found an idyllic and restful spot and folded himself into a meditation posture. The attractive planes of his face slackened as if in deepest sleep, and his wide shoulders loosened. Strong hands planted firmly but lightly on his knees, the tension seemed to melt from him in less than a minute's time, and she found herself slightly envious of his ability to cast his worries aside and simply exist. An idea arose in her mind, a wondering if he might teach her how to do the same...

Then he was speaking "I know you are there," he called softly. "Show yourself."

Out of the question, of course. She willed the feather upon which she rode to rise, carrying her to a safer distance away, and observed once more as he seemed to accept that she'd departed for good and settled in for his meditation once more. Intriguing, this monk…

The next day, bored nearly to insanity by the antics of the men of the group, Kagura considered that perhaps a little tiny bit of interference would not be amiss, and Sesshoumaru would never learn of it, of course.

The women had gone off to bathe yet again. This left the taijiya's insensate brother with the males, and males being what they were, it did not take long for them to realize what fun could be had with a person who could be maneuvered into any position without objection.

It was one thing when they were only making him pat his head and rub his stomach at the same time, or jam a finger up each nostril. Even she was hard-pressed not to laugh at the sight of the boy's nose bulging around the offending digits. But when they pulled him to his feet and began to twist his torso and limbs into some of the more bizarre angles she'd ever seen, she knew it was time to act. More for the retribution of the females when they learnt what the males were doing to Kohaku…

Floating speedily on her feather-boat, she zipped low and scooped up a variety of stones and twigs on the path toward the stream where the females were bathing. From a safe distance, she began tossing the items in their direction.

At the first crinkle of leaves, their conversation halted. When a stone plunked into the water not far from them, they both spun around toward it.

"Miroku!" the taijiya exclaimed, her face darkening with fury as she reached for a voluminous drying-cloth and wrapped it around her before stepping from the water. "I don't know what game you're playing but—" Another stone, this one dropping just inches from her foot.

Then a twig followed, a few feet further away, and another, closer still to where they'd set up camp. The taijiya turned back to the miko, who stood stock-still in the water, eyes huge.

"Kagome?" the former said. "Do you think something's wrong?"

Kagura tossed another stone, as if to say, "yes!"

"We should go back," the miko said at last. "I feel… something, anyway. Youki."

In a flash, both girls were out of the water and dressing, uncaring if they revealed anything important in their haste, and dashing back to the clearing. What they saw there made them skid to a halt.

Inuyasha, Miroku, and Shippo were standing around Kohaku, laughing so hard they were red-faced and crying. Kohaku, on the other hand, was standing on one leg with the other sticking almost straight up in the air. His torso was bent to the side, and one arm was flapping, winglike, while the other was busily tickling his own ribs.

Twin screams of "Inuyasha!" and "Miroku!" echoed through the trees then, and Kagura winced at the piercing sound. The women swooped down on the men like a swarm of locusts, and Kagura had to clap both hands over her mouth to stifle the laughter than threatened to overcome her as the air was filled with the sound of fists hitting flesh, Sango and Kagome delivering a severe and thorough thrashing. Only the kitsune escaped this fate, though the one called Kagome was seen to eye him fiercely, clearly thinking of ways to punish him for his part in the escapade as well.

When the men had been driven in shame away from the encampment, the women turned to the task of putting the hapless Kohaku into a more comfortable position—they untangled his limbs and shoved him gently onto Kagome's sleeping roll—before settling in for a lengthy diatribe about how purely _awful_ the men were.

Typically human behaviour, Kagura felt. The women were _always_ complaining about the men. Granted, usually it wasn't because the men had just been shaping another of their number into bizarre and nearly impossible positions, but still.

Kagura leant back in her feather-boat and relaxed, a smile teasing the corners of her lips. So far, this travail assigned to her by Sesshoumaru was not overly distressing. She'd been both altruistic and troublemaking, had helped Kohaku and gotten Inuyasha and the lecherous houshi into trouble, and likely set the wheels in motion for that kitsune to get a spanking before the day was out.

Life was, if not ideal, quite entirely salvageable.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** This scene is considerably shorter here on The Pit of Voles than on my Yahoo group or mediaminer because of the sex I had to take out to make it only R-rated. If you're interested in smut-- and you know you are, you little pervs-- you can visit either of those places for the full, uncensored version. The Yahoo group's address is in my profile, and I'm (surprise) CinnamonGrrl at mediaminer so it shouldn't be too painful to find me there.

Hope you enjoy, let me know what you think. Thanks for reading.

**One Less Star, chapter 4  
by CinnamonGrrl**

After going two days without bathing because of Inuyasha's slave-driving approach to travel, Kagome and Sango were revolting.

"I refuse to walk another step without washing my hair," Kagome declared, nose in the air, and Sango stood beside her with arms folded, nodding firm agreement.

Inuyasha gave them the evil eye before leaping up into a tree. "You have an hour," said his disembodied voice from the leafy boughs above. "Not one minute longer."

Miroku sighed, watching them depart with light, eager steps toward the hot springs they'd come to. Shippo stood watching him carefully, no doubt ready to scream to the heavens should he take a single step in the direction of the springs. Miroku smiled at the kitsune in what he hoped was a reassuring and disarming manner, but Shippo knew him far too well and clearly remained unconvinced of his harmlessness.

"Guess I'll just go meditate," he said to no one in particular, and headed in the opposite direction to the springs. He found a large boulder with the sun streaming down onto it in a most appealing way and clambered up, grateful to be even a little bit warm now that winter had definitely arrived.

Folding himself into full-lotus, he cupped one hand within the other, closed his eyes, and began to count breaths. Scarcely had he reached ten when he felt it again, that prodding at the outside of his consciousness, like a persistent itch that wouldn't go away.

The youkai was watching him again. He'd come to spy on Miroku every day during meditation for the past week, and it was starting to get on Miroku's nerves. "What point is there to hiding if I know you're there?" he called out quietly. "If you're going to attack me, you should just do it."

The wind picked up then, whipping his robes and hair around and driving away whatever scant heat he'd been able to absorb from the sun's rays. "Attack?" the wind seemed to say. "I am not here to attack you."

"Then why?" asked Miroku. Ignoring the stiff, chill breeze, he remained in meditative posture, eyes lightly closed. "Why simply watch for so long?"

"It is as I was commanded to do," the wind replied. "To watch, and nothing more. Already, I risk my life by replying to you." The voice was coming closer, as if the speaker were gaining confidence from Miroku's closed eyes and relaxed demeanor.

"Surely, I can't be so interesting that I'm worth such a risk," he commented, smiling faintly.

"Actually, you are," the wind insisted. "A fascinating array of contradictions... a holy man, and a lecher. A wise man, who plays the fool. A warrior, and a man of peace. I do not understand you." The wind sounded... irate, as if distinctly put-out by the fact it couldn't figure Miroku out. "Puzzles do not please me."

"Life is a puzzle," Miroku said enigmatically. "One we have no choice but to try to solve."

"And if we do not solve it?" asked the wind, who was beginning to sound more and more feminine with each word, with each step closer. "What then? Are we doomed to a lifetime of searching, without ever finding?"

"Sometimes, yes," he replied. "But it is the quest that counts, not the discovery... Kagura." He said the last as he opened his eyes, and found the elemental youkai standing before him. She wore a kimono of palest green with a pattern of silver leaves, and a pale-grey obi over a yukata of robin's egg blue. Her hair was arranged in an elaborate array of loops and swirls and her jade earrings quivered from the force of her agitation.

"I know nothing of this," she replied impatiently.

"But you want to," he finished for her, reading correctly the curiosity in her eyes, and wondered at his lack of fear or even much apprehension in the presence of a powerful, deadly youkai. Especially one who until recently had been their fierce adversary. "You are a restless spirit, seeking for your place."

Her scarlet eyes narrowed at his presumption. "What do you know of what I seek?"

"Those happy with their lot do not betray those that rule them," Miroku said gently. "You took the shards from Naraku in a pivotal moment, and gave them to his enemy. Those are not the actions of one who has found what she was looking for."

"I hate him," she hissed. "I _despise_ him. I would do anything to bring his downfall."

He tilted his head to one side. "That is our goal, too," he told her, as if she didn't already know. "Should we not help each other in achieving it?"

"I have taken steps of my own, houshi," Kagura told him coldly.

He bowed as low as he could whilst seated, apologizing and mocking at the same time. "But of course," he replied, seeming utterly unconcerned, and allowed his eyelids to drift shut once more.

They flew open again, however, when she smacked him in the forehead with her folded fan. "Do not close your eyes when I am speaking to you," she said severely.

"Or what?" Miroku asked lazily, rubbing the red mark that blossomed under his spiky bangs. "You will destroy me? I thought you were under orders to only watch, not kill."

A sound like "ooooh" came from her lips, and she reached once more to strike him with her fan. He was prepared for an attack this time, however, and snatched her wrist before she could land the blow. "Now, now," he chided. "That simply won't do."

Slowly, he released Kagura and she drew back her arm, watching the livid fingerprints he'd left on her skin as they flushed with blood, turning pink before slowly fading. "I want to know," she said hoarsely.

"Know what?" He returned his hand to his lap, the very picture of serenity. She didn't say anything right away, and he was happy to let the silence stretch between them as she groped for an answer.

"Everything," Kagura replied after a while. "I want to know everything, not just what Naraku told me, what he wanted me to believe." She took a deep breath. "I want to know everything, and make my own decisions about what to think."

"Admirable," Miroku said. "But why have you come to me?" He laughed, a sharp and bitter little laugh. "I do not possess the secrets of the universe. All I have is a cursed hand and a strong libido." He cracked open one eye. "What makes you think I know anything?"

"You know enough," she said, and sat beside him on the boulder. She folded her limbs into full lotus, cupped one hand within the other, and looked expectantly at him. "Now what?"

He favoured her with a smile. She was persistent, if nothing else. "Now, we count breaths."

"Why do we do that?"

"Because we can."

"... ah."

* * *

Elsewhere in their little section of Sengoku Jidai, Kagome and Sango relaxed into the steaming-hot spring, immersed in both water and thoughts.

Kagome was in a quandary. Sango was right— the longer she kept her thoughts bottled up, the worse off she'd be. She really should let the others know the truth about Midoriko, about the other Kagomes and about Sesshoumaru, but... she was embarrassed.

It was mortifying to her, the idea of falling in love with him, when he'd done so little to show himself worthy of it in this dimension. Granted, he'd brought Kohaku to them, and even agreed to use Tenseiga on the boy to bring him back to life, and he hadn't killed any of them either of the times they'd met since Midoriko's extraordinary announcement to Kagome...

Hm. Perhaps he really wasn't as much of a creep as he seemed. If you knew how to look at the tiny little clues— as Kagome now did, thanks to all those foreign memories— Sesshoumaru really wasn't that bad a guy. If you got past the coldness, arrogance, insults, and general lack of personality, that is.

_Still a long way to go before it could be love,_ Kagome thought with a sigh. The sound caught Sango's attention, and Kagome ventured a shaky little smile at her friend. Sango loved her like a sister. She could be trusted to keep this information a secret, and it would be such a relief to have someone sympathize with her...

"Sango," she said, "I'd like to explain what happened with Midoriko."

The other girl's dark eyes widened almost comically. "Finally!" she exclaimed, smiling in relief. "I thought you'd _never_ tell me!" Kagome had to laugh at that, though it was a small and not-very-cheery laugh.

"It all started when I jumped in the well..." she began. Fifteen minutes later, she concluded with, "...and I only woke up when Inuyasha came for me and started yelling."

Sango stared at her in amazement. "Sesshoumaru?" she asked, gaping. "I can't believe... are you sure... it just seems so..."

"Horrible. Yes." Kagome sank lower in the hot water, until only her head was above its surface, and contemplated drowning herself. "I don't know whether to cry or... actually, that's pretty much the only impulse I'm having. No matter how I try to just believe in the other Kagomes' memories, all I can think is, their Sesshoumarus aren't mine."

Sango glanced at her, dark and sly. "Yours?"

"I mean, this one here! In this dimension!" Kagome hurried to correct. "The ones from those dimensions were radically different because their Inuyashas all died, instead of getting sealed to the Goshinboku. Theirs didn't have Sesshoumaru and Inuyasha in this terrible rivalry for Tetsusaiga, didn't have Inuyasha cut Sesshoumaru's arm off..."

"I wonder how upset he is over that," Sango mused. "He never acts like losing an arm is any big deal."

"I don't know," Kagome replied miserably. "His reaction could range anywhere from basic anger to fiery rage to demented and barbaric fury, I suppose."

"Is there any chance the reaction might not be something to do with violence?" Sango asked with a smile. "Because I'm not hearing a lot of variation, there."

Kagome shook her head, smiling also. "No, I think it's pretty much guaranteed that Sesshoumaru's sole reaction to Inuyasha costing him his arm is wrath." She sighed. "And it all adds up to a Sesshoumaru that I don't have any way of knowing or understanding... I feel like I read all the reviews to a movie and thought I knew what to expect, but when I got to the theatre I found out that it's nothing like what I was told."

Sango bit her lip. "I... think I understand what you mean," she said haltingly. "If what you've said is true, then—"

"_If_ what I've said is true?" Kagome pounced on her friend's statement. "Sango, don't you believe me?" She was surprised at how much Sango's skepticism hurt.

"I do!" Sango hurried to say. "It's just that, it's such a bizarre idea, all these different realities, and Midoriko, and Inutaisho, and, and Sesshoumaru. Ses**_shou_**maru, Kagome! I just think it's possible that you hit your head or something and had a really strange dream."

Kagome thought hard about it for a long while. "I guess that's possible," she allowed after a few minutes, "but I've also tried a few things based on what the other Kagomes remember about him, like helping him use Tenseiga and asking him to hold Naraku's half of the Shikon, and he didn't kill me. Didn't even try, not once. I think he might have made fun of me a few times, actually. So I think, just maybe, I'm right in believing it was real."

She turned wide eyes to her friend. "Otherwise, Sango, wouldn't he have killed me? He's tried in the past, after all. A lot."

Sango sighed, and started squeezing water out of her hair in preparation of leaving the springs. "I suppose," she said. "It's impossible to tell, with him." She glared, suddenly, in the direction of where they'd left Inuyasha, Shippo, and Miroku. "Men are strange creatures," she intoned darkly. "They always complain they can't understand us, but they're just as bizarre."

Kagome thought of Inuyasha's inability to admit his feelings, how he insisted he didn't care when she knew darned _well_ that he did, and of Sesshoumaru's expressionless features and inscrutable golden gaze. "Yes," she agreed faintly. "They really are."

* * *

It was unseasonably warm for this late October day a week later, sunny and almost balmy. Now that they were passing out of the southern lands, the change in season was more obvious in the fall of crimson and gold leaves, stirred into lazy circles by an unruly breeze. Miroku considered himself lucky to find this mossy little clearing a good distance from the encampment where Inuyasha sat pouting that they had to delay their travel.

The leafy cyclones picked up in speed, and he knew his companion had arrived. Miroku's lips twitched as he fought to subdue the smile that rose when Kagura sat beside him. For the past week as he and the others had travelled north toward Edo, it had been the same: he would leave the group to meditate while the women went to bathe, and she would join him soon thereafter.

They never sat in silence long, no matter that it was supposed to be zazen. Soon, Kagura's curiosity would get the better of her and she'd ask a question or make a comment. He didn't expect today to be any different.

"I have watched you fondle the women," Kagura said suddenly. "And I have seen them strike you for it."

Miroku flinched, a sheepish expression spreading over his face. Whatever he had expected her to say this time, that wasn't it. "Yes?" he said, bracing himself for a stream of accusatory invective.

"I do not understand the vehemence of their reactions to it," she continued, and he blinked in surprise. "You do not appear to be harming them, and yet they do you great violence. Why is this?"

"Because I—"he began, then stopped, groping for words to explain it. "They are—"He sighed. "They just don't like it."

"Do it to me," she commanded, standing and facing away from him. "I will see for myself how unpleasant it is."

Miroku's surprise increased exponentially, even as he automatically stood as well. The lecherous part of him exulted—a woman was _asking_ for him to molest her?—but the other part, the part wary about receiving yet another stinging strike to the head or face, shrank back. "Oh, I don't know..." he hedged, then made a most unmanly squeak when Kagura huffed in impatience and took his hand, placing it flat against the curve of her left buttock.

"Should I be insulted at your reluctance?" she said, her voice low with annoyance. "Start rubbing."

Feeling rather like he was floating outside of his body, as if the hand resting on Kagura's backside belonged to someone else, he rubbed. At first, in his state of bemusement, all he could register was the abrading texture of fabric making his palm and fingers tingle. Then he seemed to return to himself and began to play closer attention.

The flesh beneath the kimono was firm, rounded and springy, and he found himself curving his hand more closely around it, rubbing slower, squeezing lightly and then harder. In all, it was a thoroughly satisfactory cheek, and he wondered if its mate were likewise, so he moved his hand to the right. A similar treatment there, and he was able to confirm that, whatever else Kagura had, she also possessed one of the finest arses he'd ever had the privilege of petting.

She was also, he noted with a sort of breathless and delighted shock, pressing back into his hand. Curiosity and the faint sense of alarm he'd felt since she'd commanded him to rub her backside slid inevitably into desire as heat blossomed within him, rushing down past his belly and back up again.

He became aware as never before of the slim, upright back before him, the way her short-bobbed hair revealed the slender length of neck and throat and how her jade earrings also drew attention to the pale column of flesh. Suddenly, he wanted to remove those earrings and touch his tongue to the lobes they pierced.

"I don't understand their anger. It feels... exceedingly good," Kagura said then, to his mingled horror and glee. "Can you use both hands?"

Yes, he certainly could, and gladly filled both palms with the resilient flesh. In the course of his rubbing, his fingertips brushed between her buttocks and her harsh gasp, and resultant wiggle closer to him, made him lightheaded as lust swamped him. Once again feeling like he did not control his body, his hands slid around to grip her hips and he pressed himself tightly to her. He gasped a little at the welcome pressure of the cleft of her cheeks cradling his erection, and buried his mouth against the side of her neck, inhaling her light scent deeply before opening his mouth to the creamy skin.

She jolted against him, going stiff at first, and Miroku moved a hand to press on her belly, suddenly terrified she might bolt away. His tongue swirled a random design over her neck on its way to her ear, and he carefully sucked the earring into his mouth with her earlobe, tugging gently on it until he heard her moan, and felt her trembling in his embrace.

It was her acquiescence that woke him from his lust-hazed stupor. Women maimed and brutalized him when he fondled them. Women did _not_ melt against him with a breathy sound of mutual desire, nor did they clasp his hands closer to them and rub themselves against his rigid and aching shaft. He wrenched himself away and stumbled back several feet, passing a trembling hand over his eyes as he tried to organize his thoughts.

Kagura huffed again and spun around, hands on hips in the universal posture of the scolding female. "Oh, don't tell me you feel squeamish?"

"This is wrong," Miroku replied, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You are our enemy. I don't trust you. You're after something."

She sighed. "Enemy no longer," she reminded him. "Though I cannot fault your lack of trust. In these hard days, it is only wise to be cautious. But..." she stepped closer, and he felt sweat break out on his back and shoulders at her proximity, at the curiosity and wakening desire on her own face, "it felt very pleasant, and I cannot countenance how they would find it anything but a positive experience—"

Miroku kissed her. He couldn't help it; she smelled good, felt good, and now he wanted to see if she tasted good. She stood, pliable but still, against him until he realized it was not lack of response, but of experience that kept her from kissing him back. The idea that he could teach her everything he might want her to know scalded over him like a dipperful of boiling water thrown at him, and he wound his arms around her, pressing her close as he slanted his mouth over hers, tongue pushing insistently between her lips to show her the fullest extent of the practice of kissing.

After only a minute, she was mimicking his movements of mouth and tongue, kissing him back with increased ferocity. "You taste good," she murmured when he pulled back for breath, and he found himself staring down into scarlet eyes as lust-fogged as he knew his own must be. "How does the rest of you taste?"

Immediately, a mental image appeared in Miroku's mind's eye, and he groaned at the power of it. "What will you do?" he rasped. "What will you let _me_ do?"

Her dark brows drew together in perplexment. "I do not know," she replied at last. "Why do we not simply try everything? If I do not enjoy it, I will tell you."

**insert sex scene here**

Miroku forced his heavy eyelids to open and propped himself up on his elbows. She was sitting across the little clearing, watching him. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm not sure," she said, looking pensive. "I am feeling very... solitary at the moment."

"Is that good or bad?" he ventured, trying to understand what she meant.

"Bad, I think. I do not like it. I would like..." She trailed off, uncertain. "I think I would like to be embraced."

_She wanted to cuddle,_ Miroku thought, and was reassured by this typically female post-coital behaviour. Extending his hand outward, he gestured for her to come to him, and she dove into his arms, seeming to weave her limbs around and through his, vinelike, until he had trouble determining where he ended and she began.

"This has been a valuable experience," Kagura told him happily. "I thank you for it."

He was only prevented from gaping by her head snuggled under his chin. She'd just brought him to a staggering climax with her mouth and _she_ was thanking _him_? "You're welcome," he replied faintly, mentally saying a prayer of gratitude to every deity he could think of. As a trained monk, he could think of quite a few.

He was only halfway through the deity list when she continued, "It seems to me that this is not the only way one might be brought to such pleasure."

..._Kuan-yin, and Manjushri, and Bishamon, and what?_ "Yes," he replied when his mind caught up to his ears. "There's..." He coughed. "There's many other ways."

She nodded, rubbing her cheek with affection against his bare chest. "We should try them all."

He blinked_. Avolokitesvara, and Hotei, and Izanami, and Amaterasu, you have my profoundest thanks for your benevolence..._ "Okay."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time! I'm glad you're enjoying it. Hope you like this chapter, please let me know what you think :)

**One Less Star  
****Chapter 5  
**by CinnamonGrrl

It hardly seemed possible, Miroku mused later on that afternoon, that what had happened with Kagura had actually occurred. Here he was, walking along in a perfectly mundane manner, as he had done hundreds if not thousands of times before. They were just a few dozen leagues from Edo now, and the pitted dirt road felt familiar beneath his sandaled feet.

And yet just a few hours ago, he'd experienced some of the strongest pleasure it had ever been his blessing to receive. And with Kagura, no less—their enemy, who had come close time and again to destroying them. It was bizarre. It was surreal. And it had been utterly amazing. Miroku found himself hoping the day would pass so tomorrow's meditation session arrived speedily...

"Miroku," Sango said, waking him from his silent contemplations. Her voice was pitched low so the others would not hear. "Have you noticed something… different about Inuyasha lately?" At the rear of their group, she carefully guided Kohaku around a protruding root in the dirt road heading north to Edo. Her brother, after nearly a week, still took no heed of his surroundings but at least was able to walk if set into initial motion.

"You mean, ever since he removed Kohaku's shard?" Miroku replied from beside her, staring at their friend's back as he led their little procession. Inuyasha was in the lead, with Kagome, Shippo and Kirara a few paces behind him, and Miroku, Sango, and Kohaku bringing up the rear. They were headed to Kaede's village to leave Kohaku in the elderly miko's care while they went searching for the elusive Naraku, set on destroying him once and for all.

"Yes," she said, expression troubled. "He's been even more quick-tempered than usual, more violent and sort of… irrational. Poor Shippo… as soon as one lump on his head goes down, Inuyasha gives him another."

"It's not just Shippo who's been suffering," said Miroku with a rueful rub of his own bumpy head. "Two days ago I was reaching for the salt—perfectly innocently, mind you—and he thought I was trying to grope you and socked me in the face."

"I remember that," Sango replied. "I wasn't even in the encampment at the time, was I?"

"No, you and Kagome had gone off for firewood."

She sighed. "And he's blaming Kagome for everything, even things that couldn't possibly be her doing. Yesterday, he said it was because of her that it rained."

He nodded absently. "She seems different, too. Ever since the last time she went back to her family and was gone almost a week. She's so quiet, and hardly argues with Inuyasha at all anymore. I can't remember the last time she smiled or laughed, and really meant it. And whatever's going on with Sesshoumaru…"

"I'm worried about her," Sango declared. "I think there's a lot she's not telling us, and it's obviously wearing her down. She needs to let us help her with her problems."

"And how do you propose to make her share it with us?" Miroku asked with a rather derisive half-smile. "Hold her down and tickle her until she relents?"

Sango looked like she was considering it for a moment. "No," she said at last. "She was very angry the last time we did that. I doubt she'd forgive us again."

"You're right." Kagome's clear voice rang out in the little silence than followed Sango's speech. "I wouldn't."

"I think she's part bat youkai," Sango grumbled. "She can hear almost as well as Inuyasha."

"Keh," said that gentleman from the front of the line.

"Did _everyone_ hear this conversation?" Miroku asked the world at large.

"Pretty much," Shippo said. Kirara mewed her agreement.

"Fine," Sango said rebelliously. "Since everyone can hear no matter how softly I speak, I'll say it out loud. Inuyasha, you're even more of a jerk lately, and we want to know why. Kagome, you're overburdened by whatever secrets you're keeping, and it's only going to get worse if you don't share it with your friends. Miroku—" here, the monk looked alarmed "—get your hand _off_ my backside. And Shippo…"

The kitsune squeaked in terror at her fierce expression. "What'd I do?"

"You're getting so _big_," Sango finished, looking sad and a little betrayed. "You're not a little boy anymore. You're almost as tall as Miroku." He wasn't, not remotely, but clearly Sango wasn't in the mood to be anything but exaggerative. Kagome joined her in the sad-betrayed look too, and together they surveyed him like mothers devastated that their babies were all grown up.

"I'm fourteen now, Sango," Shippo reminded her sullenly. "Did you expect me to stay small forever?"

"Yes!" wailed Kagome, reaching to give him a hug. He endured her embrace, then Sango's, stoically but exchanged a look of long-suffering over their shoulders at Inuyasha and Miroku. "Hey," he said, extricating himself from their arms, "don't forget… Inuyasha's a bigger jerk than usual, remember?"

The women rounded on the hanyou. Inuyasha's ears flattened, but his scowl was anything but submissive. "I'll get you for this later," he growled at Shippo as Kagome and Sango advanced on him.

"What's gotten into you lately, Inuyasha?" Kagome asked, trying to keep her tone pleasant and curious instead of cranky and demanding, but it was hard. He really had been extra obnoxious since his half-brother had brought Kohaku to them and Inuyasha had removed the shard. "Are you still upset that I gave half the Shikon to Sesshoumaru for safekeeping?"

Inuyasha smirked. "You want to know what's gotten into me?" he asked with an unpleasant smirk. He turned his back on them and swept his silver-white hair aside to reveal the back of his neck, glowing faintly. "Kohaku's shard, that's what." Dropping the length of hair once more, he faced them and smiled with pure satisfaction. "I figured that if I couldn't have the whole thing yet, I'd at least use what I had to be more powerful, so we can defeat Naraku easier."

They all blinked at him in open-mouthed horror.

"C'mon, guys," he said, a little uncomfortable. "It's not the end of the world. I'm just stronger this way, and faster. The only reason Naraku was able to get away from me all those times was because of the power he was given by all the shards he had. Now he has none, and I have one in me. It tips the odds in our favour."

"But, Inuyasha," Kagome said, her voice shaking, "I didn't purify it first. It's still evil, tainted from Naraku's influence. It's going to taint you, too."

"Feh," was Inuyasha's response. "You worry too much. The shard's fine, I'm fine, everything's fine. So can we just forget about all of this and get back to Edo so we can drop off the kid with Kaede and then go find Naraku?" His question ended in a shout, and he wheeled away from them to stomp down the path, fairly quivering with agitation.

"This," Miroku said, "is bad."

"Very bad," Sango agreed.

"I think," commented Shippo, "I'm glad Kagome gave half of the jewel to Sesshoumaru."

Kagome's saddened gaze rested on the quickly-receding red-garbed figure in the distance. "I think I am too," she whispered.

* * *

Kagura sailed on a wind current, her feather-boat drifting quickly westwards. She was not entirely thrilled to be leaving Inuyasha's group, eager as she was to continue her extraordinary tutelage at the hands (and other body parts) of the monk, but the hanyou's announcement that he now bore a jewel shard was something in which she knew Sesshoumaru would take great interest.

Alighting at his home, she followed Jaken inside and sat where he indicated. "Sesshoumaru-sama will grace you with his presence if he deems you worthy," the toad youkai sniffed, and stumped from the room, banging his two-headed staff with more force on the floor than was perhaps strictly necessary.

She sat quietly, a small smile on her lips as she replayed the events of the day yet once more, and did not notice Sesshoumaru's silent arrival.

"With whom have you been rutting?" he asked by way of introduction, seating himself on the other side of the low table and nodding at Jaken to bring tea.

Kagura blinked as she drew her thoughts to the present, unsurprised that he'd been able to tell. Demonic noses were unsurpassed for detecting any variety of scents, after all. "Inconsequential," she replied briskly. "There is far more important news for you."

His face was expressionless when he said, "I, Sesshoumaru, shall decide what is of consequence." There was a stony note to his voice that told her he would not be swayed by any temptation of other information.

"The houshi," she said with a sigh. "He has been teaching me many things of late. This was just one of them."

Sesshoumaru was silent a moment, and then asked, "Was he any good?"

Kagura had to laugh. "I have nothing to compare him to, my lord. But I would venture to say yes, he was good."

He sighed, just a little. "A pity. I would have enjoyed the irony of a lecher who failed as a bed partner." Jaken bustled in with a tea tray, and Sesshoumaru poured them each a cup from the delicate pot painted with snow-covered pine boughs.

"Be of good cheer," she said wryly. "We have not done nearly all I intend, and it may well be that he is of mediocre talent from this point forward."

"One may hope," Sesshoumaru murmured over the rim of his tea cup, and took a sip. "Now, tell me what you have come to say."

Kagura straightened her shoulders, becoming businesslike. "Inuyasha has refused to give to Kagome the shard he pulled from Kohaku," she said carefully. "He now bears it in the back of his neck, and already his manner is more aggressive."

Sesshoumaru appeared utterly bored by her news; only the tiny quirk of his silvery left eyebrow indicated he was not on the verge of falling asleep. "Indeed."

She nodded. "I do not trust him," she announced. "His lust for the jewel has always been strong, and now with a shard inside him, his resistance to temptation will be even lower."

"You are not wrong," he allowed, nodding. He drained his teacup and stood, indicating she was to do the same. "You will return to them," he told her.

"May I act?" Kagura inquired. Truth be told, she was itching for a little bloodshed. Things had been boring since Naraku's defeat and her subsequent demotion to Inuyasha's nanny. Experiences with Miroku aside, of course.

"You may," he replied, preceding her from the room into the corridor. "Protect the Shikon, and the miko."

"And the others?"

He turned back to her. His eyes were flat and blank, like two discs of gold waiting to be pressed into coins. "Inconsequential."

* * *

Kagome doubted she'd ever been so delighted to collapse into her sleeping bag. Inuyasha had been pushing them hard to return to Edo and leave Kohaku with Kaede so they could proceed, unhindered, after Naraku. They'd been traveling well over fifteen hours that day alone, the hanyou waking them before dawn and squawking at them to get a move on until they were willing to walk simply to shut him up.

With the familiar warmth of Sango in her bedroll to her side, and Shippo snuggled at her feet, Kagome felt warm and safe as she allowed her heavy eyelids to close, and she drifted off. Her dreams this night were not of chaos and mayhem, but of an infinitely more pleasant variety... _oh, no,_ she thought with a sort of conflicted, happy dread. _Not another sex memory._

But it would seem so. She dreamt of Sesshoumaru's arms around her, of his warm hand smoothing over her shoulder and breast, of his fingertips tracing delicate and ticklish whorls over the skin of her face and throat. She dreamt of pressing her face closer to him, of nuzzling his neck with her nose and lips, inhaling his scent and tasting his flavour on her tongue as she darted it out, flickering over his pulse.

"Kagome," he breathed at her actions, but the voice was different, wrong somehow. It was a rough tenor, not the smooth baritone she was used to hearing say her name in passion and need.

"Sesshoumaru?" she murmured groggily, trying to struggle free of arms that were suddenly a prison.

"No," snarled the voice, and her eyes flew open to find Inuyasha kneeling beside her sleeping bag. He had pulled her up into his embrace, and his hand was still stroking her throat, but it was caressing the golden chain around it rather than the flesh itself...

"I was going to ask you nicely," Inuyasha said, his handsome face twisted into a sneer, "but since even when you're asleep you're thinking of _him_, I don't think I'll bother." With a hard yank, he pulled the necklace from her.

"Inuyasha, no!" Kagome exclaimed, her tone plainly horrified, cold dread filling her. This was what Midoriko had warned her about: Inuyasha become overpowered by the taint of the shard he'd taken from Kohaku.

"What's going on?" Sango asked blearily as she slowly came awake. Shippo sat up and rubbed his eyes with his fists, and Miroku's hand reached slowly for his staff as his watchful gaze took in the scene before him.

"Please, Inuyasha," Kagome whispered. Her stomach was roiling so badly she thought she might be sick. "Don't do this. It isn't you, it's the shard that's making you like this."

"Feh," he said, shoving her away, and leapt nimbly to his feet.

Without his strong arms as support, Kagome felt cold and alone and small, and very, very scared… "Please," she repeated desperately. "Take the shard out of your neck. I'll purify it, and you can put it back if you like. But it's tainted, and it's turning you evil."

"Oh, shut up," he snapped. His hair was even more rumpled and wild than usual, crackling with the nervous energy thrumming through his body. "Like I'm really that stupid, giving you my shard. Like I think you'll really return it to me."

"I would," Kagome protested, hurt. "You know I would."

"I don't know anything anymore," Inuyasha snapped. He stared steadily at her, the dying embers of the fire making his eyes glow red...

Kagome darted a glance toward the ring of stones that surrounded their little cookfire. It was cold, the ashes no more than grey dust on the ground. "Your eyes..." she said, inching away from him.

"What about them?" he asked carelessly. "Listen, I got things to do." He grinned suddenly, revealing fangs considerably longer than usual. "Thanks for this half of the jewel. Now all I have to do is kill Sesshoumaru, and I'll have the whole thing."

"You can't beat him," Kagome said softly, her heart sinking like a stone. "You'll only get yourself hurt or killed if you try, Inuyasha."

He let out of wordless roar of anger. "What is it with you lately, Kagome?" he demanded, stomping around as the others sat on the ground, unsure if they should stand or not. "You used to dislike Sesshoumaru. You used to fear him, tried to kill him how many times?" He wheeled around, pointing a lethally-clawed finger at her. "And now you're his personal admiration society. It doesn't make sense."

"A lot of things don't make sense, but still _are_, Inuyasha," Kagome said sadly. She had a horrible feeling that he wasn't going to settle down, wasn't going to see reason. "Please, don't do this," she begged, ignoring the tears that coursed down her face. "I'm so afraid of what will happen if you do."

"Nothing's going to happen," he said smugly, "unless you try to stop me." His arms crossed over his chest, chin up, he was the very picture of determination.

She stood at last, her legs feeling wobbly and jello-like. "You know I have to."

His eyes, still red-tinged, searched hers for a long moment. "Don't make me fight you, Kagome. You won't win."

"Maybe not." She reached for her bow and slowly, deliberately, nocked and drew an arrow, aiming it him. "But I still have to try."

The red, barely banked, surged forward in his gaze and jagged stripes appeared on his face. "Then I'll have to kill you."

"You can try," Sango said coldly, and they both turned to see her with Hiraikotsu poised on her shoulder. Even in her sleeping yukata, she was a sobering sight. "But you'll have to get by me first." Kirara mewed and transformed into her larger, more dangerous form.

"And me," Shippo added quietly. He hadn't said a word since their voices had woken him, had only watched in silence, but there was nothing of the rambunctious kit about him now—he was calm and businesslike as he went to Kagome, who stood with steady arms still aiming a faintly glowing arrow at Inuyasha.

"And me," Miroku said finally, a world of sorrow in his deep voice as he took Kagome's other side. "I'm sorry, my friend," he told Inuyasha, and meant it. "But what you're doing is wrong. I can't allow it."

"I don't freaking believe this!" Inuyasha yelled. He threw his hands up in agitation, the red leaping in his eyes. "Nice loyalty you have, guys. I've only said my goal was to use the Shikon to make a wish for the past, oh, seven years. And now that it's almost able to be done, you want to kill me?"

"We _don't_ want to kill you, Inuyasha," Kagome protested. "We just can't let you get the jewel."

He sighed, and almost reluctantly withdrew Tetsusaiga from its sheath with a hiss. "Fine," he said, and sounded immensely tired as the sword transformed into a glowing fang. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

He sprang straight up in preparation of launching himself at them, but Sango flung her boomerang at him. He sprung in mid-air as it whistled through the air at him, slashing at it with Tetsusaiga, but on the downstroke it unexpectedly transformed back into a ragged katana.

The boomerang, which would otherwise have been sliced in two by the sword, was unimpeded and caught Inuyasha right in the midsection, smashing him back into the trunk of a tree. "Oof," he grunted at the impact, then "oof" again when he slid down the trunk to slump at the base of it.

"Now," he growled at the exterminator, shoving a hank of hair out of his eyes, "I'm pissed off."

Sheathing Tetsusaiga, he jumped forward with arm cranked backwards for maximum impetus when he struck.

Kagome sucked in a lungful of air and shouted "Sit, boy!" As expected, Inuyasha crashed face-first into the ground, creating a him-shaped crater a foot deep and little puffs of dust rising all around him. The others sighed in relief and relaxed fractionally.

Slowly, deliberately, Inuyasha dragged himself to his feet, head downcast as he brushed himself off. Then he straightened, and they all gasped to see that the osuwari command hadn't driven back his demon—his eyes were still a livid blood-red, his stripes still jagged, his claws and fangs still unnaturally long.

"Do it again," he ground out, starting to run toward Sango, who was closest. "All it does is make me want to kill you more." Sango had to call on every last bit of her agility to leap out of the way, and she tumbled backwards over Kohaku's inert form to fall to the ground.

Inuyasha had no time to pursue his attack of her further, however, because Miroku was there with his staff, striking a stinging blow across the back of his shoulders that staggered him. "Back off, monk," he snarled. "You're no match for me."

"Be that as it may," Miroku replied calmly, and swung the top of the staff up, catching Inuyasha under the chin with an incongruously cheery jingle of golden rings. Sango had recovered by this time and held Hiraikotsu ready for another pass, once Miroku was clear.

Inuyasha raked his claws at Miroku, catching him on the arm in a long swipe despite the houshi's jumping back. Miroku stumbled as the pain and shock of it slammed into him, and fell to his knees. "Sorry about this," Inuyasha said, fangs bared in a vicious grin, about to slash him again, but an immense burst of blue light exploded, blinding him.

"Foxfire!" Shippo cried, dancing on agile feet between them to blow it up right in Inuyasha's face. He grabbed Miroku's arm and rolled them both out of the way, clearing a path for Sango to launch the boomerang once more.

Inuyasha's sensitive eyes were still seeing spots from Shippo's foxfire when Hiraikotsu caught him in the gut once more. This time the crunch of bone was audible throughout the clearing, and they all winced.

"Please, Inuyasha," Kagome pleaded, frantic to have him back the way he used to be. "Don't do this. Give the jewel back to me, and we can forget it ever happened."

But he was thoroughly incensed by this point, his eyes blazing with fury. "Screw that," he bit off. "Now, I won't be happy until I've tasted your blood."

"Happiness comes from within, Inuyasha," Miroku intoned even as he aimed a hefty blow at the hanyou's head. It connected with a solid thunk, but had no impact on Inuyasha whatsoever. He grabbed it from the monk and swung it, first connecting with Miroku's midsection before swinging backwards to smack Sango hard in the head. She went down like a sack of rocks.

"Sango!" shouted Shippo in alarm, and darted toward her. The staff whirled at him, and he was knocked away from Sango, off his feet and far across the clearing into the shadows between the trees in the distance.

"No," Kagome moaned, paralyzed by distress. It was like a nightmare had come true, and yet she couldn't seem to make herself release the arrow that would purify him to death, even as he tried to kill her other friends, even as he advanced upon her with murder in his eyes.

And still Miroku managed to stagger to his feet, one hand clutching his heavily bleeding arm, and placed himself once more between Kagome and Inuyasha. Whatever else he might be—lecher, shyster, outright crook—he was a loyal friend and a brave man.

Then, amazingly, Kagura was there. She leapt with alacrity from her feather-boat and drew her deadly fan, waving it almost lazily at Inuyasha and sending blades of wind in his direction. Kagome simply gaped at this, and then gaped a bit more when she thought she heard Miroku grumble, "Took you long enough."

Kagura watched with displeasure as Inuyasha rolled out of the way of her attack, pausing only to sniff daintily at the monk. "I had to get permission," she informed him.

Kagome shook her head as if to clear it. "Why? What?" she asked disjointedly, then decided not to bother. Things were weird enough. Inuyasha appeared as if he were gearing up for a formidable attack, Miroku was ready to pass out, Sango and Shippo _were_ passed out, and Kagura looked positively bloodthirsty.

Kirara left Sango to bound to their side, and she, Miroku, and Kagura all charged Inuyasha at the same time. He unleashed his Claws of Steel on them, and they scarcely managed to dodge without getting killed. Kagome heard Miroku's shout of pain as his wound was opened even more, and Kirara let out a sound that was half-snarl, half-scream as Inuyasha's claws raked her down the middle.

Kagura tsked, glancing at the long slash down her formerly-elegant kimono. "Do you know," she demanded through gritted teeth, "how difficult it is to find acanthus leaves embroidered in bronze silk?"

Inuyasha's face, which had gone feral with rage, seemed to puzzle over that impenetrable mystery a moment, just long enough for Kagura to launch another attach—this time, her wind blades caught Inuyasha across the front, slicing open his haori across the chest and down one leg of his hakama and rending the flesh beneath. He was thrown back by the force of it, falling on top of Sango where she lay slumped over Kohaku.

And just when Kagome thought it couldn't get weirder, Sesshoumaru arrived. He drifted down into the clearing on the back of his two-headed dragon and slid from its back in a leisurely fashion, eyes taking in the situation placidly.

"Again I find you in an undignified position, brother," he murmured, but his voice still carried clearly through the trees.

Inuyasha was instantly back on his feet. "Oh, good," he said, one side of his mouth lifting in a cold smile. "I hope you have your half of the Shikon with you, Sesshoumaru. Tonight's the night I join them and become a full demon."

Kagome almost sagged to her knees as a wave of relief crashed over her. "Thank god you're here," she whispered. _He'll fix everything._ It was a response conditioned entirely by the memories of all those other Kagomes, and she knew there was no basis for it in her dimension where he'd tried time and again to kill her. But still she couldn't choke back the glad little cry at the sight of him, tall and solid and strong. He sauntered toward Kagome, looking as if he hadn't a care in the world.

Kagome closed her eyes as Midoriko's words came back to her. "If he is able to obtain his wish and become youkai entirely, there will follow an era of rage and ruin," she said aloud, and opened her eyes again to find Sesshoumaru directly before her. "Where I falter, you will endure."

She stared up at him pleadingly. "This isn't his fault," she told him.. "Please don't hurt him more than you have to."

"Such devotion," he commented, but she couldn't tell whether he meant it as an insult or not. But knowing him, it was probably not a compliment.

"I'm tired of waiting," Inuyasha announced from across the clearing. Tensing his legs, he launched himself at his half-brother with arms and claws fully extended.

Sesshoumaru dodged Inuyasha's attack seemingly without effort, drawing his half-brother further and further away from Kagome so skillfully Inuyasha didn't even realize he'd been isolated until it was almost too late.

And then Sesshoumaru was coming at him, Toukijin extended, so quickly he was merely a blur of white and red. Kagome cried out at the same time as Inuyasha when the sword found a home in his belly.

"Sesshoumaru," she called out, hating the begging tone of her voice. "Don't kill him."

Sesshoumaru did not look her way, but twisted the sword in Inuyasha as he leant forward, gaze locked with his brother's, studying him. Then, "He will not concede. There is no other choice."

Kagome ran toward them, her bow and arrow discarded on the ground beside where Miroku had finally slumped over. "Please, please don't."

"I shall not give in to your pleading," Sesshoumaru informed her coldly as Inuyasha shoved away from him and staggered back to get his bearings. "There is no room for mercy if I am to protect the Shikon. As you say: where you falter, I shall endure." He flicked a glance at Kagura. "Restrain her."

Kagome felt a hand grip her arm, and then she was hauled onto the feather-boat. It rose to the level of the treetops quicker than she could scramble out of it again, and the distance to the ground was too far to jump. She was trapped with Kagura on the damned feather, and could only watch as Inuyasha and Sesshoumaru battled.

Inuyasha in his wrath was clumsy and careless, making mistakes that cost him dearly. Sesshoumaru, on the other hand, did not have a mark on him and indeed, his face was so bored he looked like he was mere seconds from slumber. "Honestly," he said to Inuyasha, "It really is impossibly offensive that you are related to me."

The words seemed to burrow into Inuyasha and finally sent the other into a towering frenzy, as they had been meant to do. Inuyasha seemed to actually _swell_ with rage, and Kagome could see his fists clench so hard the claws drew blood from his palms.

For one interminable moment, there was silence, broken only by the drip, drip of Inuyasha's blood on the fallen leaves at his feet. Then, so suddenly Kagome gasped, he raced toward Sesshoumaru with an indignant scream that echoed around them.

She was struck by how unhinged, how utterly insane he appeared at that moment. Tears came to her eyes at how very low the tainted shard had brought her friend. "Oh, Inuyasha," she said with great sorrow.

Kagura looked at her oddly. "Save your pity," she commented, "for those who both need and deserve it." She motioned to the ground.

Kagome wiped her eyes and peered down at the scene below. Awake again, Miroku clutched his arm and lurched to his feet, using his staff to remain upright. Across the clearing, Shippo was pushing himself to hands and knees, shaking his head to clear it of the cobwebs that seemed to have settled in it and crying out in pain when his weight settled on a damaged limb. Kirara lay in a huge pool of blood.

Sesshoumaru had, of course, avoided injury once more but actually seemed to be breathing harder from the effort of holding Inuyasha off. Inuyasha sprang away, leaping over to where Sango and Kohaku lay slumped on the ground.

Sesshoumaru advanced upon Inuyasha once more, but he snatched Sango's unconscious form off the ground and held her in front of him, using her as a shield. "Don't," he growled. "You'll kill her, too."

"This dissuades me how?" Sesshoumaru inquired politely, Toukijin already drawing back for a strike.

"Inuyasha," shouted Miroku, horrified. His eyes were huge and anguished in his pale face.

"Inuyasha, no! Please, don't!" Kagome cried. She felt sick, sick and dizzy and frightened and almost hysterical from disbelief at what was happening. This was like the worst nightmare she'd ever had, exactly what she'd feared would happened when Midoriko had warned her about Inuyasha, and she didn't know what to do. She couldn't be responsible for Inuyasha's death, she just couldn't be!

Weeping, Kagome reached out to him across the space that separated them. "Inuyasha," she called to him. "Please."

He looked at her then, looked at her with those foreign red eyes, looking so alien with the livid stripes on his face and elongated fangs that he was like a stranger, someone she hadn't spent the past seven years helping and scolding and protecting and fighting. "Kagome," he replied, and for a moment she felt a tiny shaft of hope zip through her.

She strained toward him, leaning so far from the feather-boat that she lost her balance and fell out. Her scream, as she tumbled toward the ground, echoed through the surrounding forest.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** Glad all of you are enjoying this story so much. Particular gratitude to Sadist Sai, whose eruditism has certainly made me take seriously her gently-offered advice on where I went wrong with this story's premise. To those who manage to offer suggestions in a civil manner, I thank you with _actual_ sincerity.

Some of you have indicated you want to be notified when I update. There are two main options for this: you can put me on your Author Alert list here on ff dot net, or you can join my Yahoo group-- the URL is on my author page. But I'm not going to start personally emailing people when a new chapter comes out, that would get too tedious and I'm very lazy :)

Hope you like this chapter, please let me know what you think. **Begging me to update soon will not make it happen, however--** I update once a week, on Wednesdays. That is not going to change. But thank you for your interest and enthusiasm :)

Edited to fix the weird italicization of the _kura_ paragraph-- thanks, Sabriel!****

**Chapter 6  
****by CinnamonGrrl**

It was one of those moments that seems to flow in slow-motion, she would muse at a later date. A single second in time, and yet it affected all of them forever. Sesshoumaru could have ignored her fall, could have struck Sango and his brother down, could have rescued the half of the jewel Inuyasha had stolen, could have united the Shikon and then, who knows?

But he did not. He moved to catch Kagome, so quickly and fluidly he was a mere streak of light instead of a form of flesh and bone. One moment Kagome was falling, weightless and yet heavy as a mountain, and the next he had dropped Toukijin to wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her tightly against him and dropping lightly to the leafy forest floor.

And in that fateful moment, Inuyasha had taken his hostage and departed.

"Oh, god," Kagome whispered in despair, and dropped her head against Sesshoumaru's shoulder to weep. Hands tried to pull her away from him; crying out in protest, she clung to him, to his solid warmth and familiar scent.

"Sesshoumaru-sama," Miroku said carefully, "I would be most grateful if you would release her." He tugged harder on her, and she saw him glaring at Sesshoumaru, who seemed disinclined to acquiesce to the monk's request. "I do not have much time," he exclaimed, his anxiety getting the better of him. "We have to go after Sango."

Sesshoumaru tilted his head in a faintly canine way. "You propose to follow Inuyasha, injured as you are, accompanied by the wounded kit, the nearly-dead neko, the vegetable, and—" he gestured to Kagome "—her? She is, arguably, the most important creature in the land at the moment. How do you propose to keep her safe? Do you not think her worth the ransoms of a dozen kings to Naraku?"

"He's right," Shippo said from Kirara's side. His arm was dangling at an odd angle, and the fire-cat's breathing was rapid and shallow as she lay in a pool of blood. "We'll only be a burden."

"You go, then!" Kagome urged the taiyoukai, pushing on his chest with her fists until he loosened his arm and released her. She stumbled back and was steadied by Miroku, who didn't even try to grope her behind, so serious was the situation. "You're not hurt, you can take him. Go after them!"

"I will not." The words dropped like stones on her heart, and only the knowledge that he would surely kill her stayed her hands from striking him in frustration. "The half of the jewel you gave me is safe. The Shikon cannot be joined and used, and therefore I have no further interest in this… drama of yours."

"Then I will go alone," Miroku stated, his eyes slitted with anger. "I will not abandon Sango to Inuyasha in this state."

"I'll go with you!" Kagome said, but he shook his head.

"Someone has to take care of Shippo and Kohaku and Kirara," he said. "I will go by myself."

"But you can't, Miroku!" Kagome protested. "You're hurt!" She took the monk's hand and pushed up his sleeve, gasping to see the bloody gash in his flesh. She began to clean it with the hem of his sleeve but he pulled away from her, his normally open expression closed, serious and deadly.

"There's no time for that," he said quietly. "I'm going now." She clung to him a moment longer as he turned his burning gaze to Sesshoumaru once more. "Will you return them to Edo?" he asked, indicating Shippo, Kirara, and Kohaku as well as Kagome.

Sesshoumaru gazed at him coolly. "They will be safe."

Miroku seemed satisfied with the demon's promise, and nodded. Pulling from Kagome, he began to run in the direction Inuyasha had taken Sango. Silence fell as they watched him go, and Kagome was sure her heart was breaking. His gait was slow and lacking in its usual grace because of his injuries, but he pressed on regardless.

"With your permission, my lord," Kagura said, her fingers smoothing over the jagged tear in her kimono, "I will accompany him. It is clear he will never make it alone, and we must see where Inuyasha takes the Shikon."

Sesshoumaru was silent a moment, considering, and then inclined his head. "As you wish," he said. But Kagome observed him instead of Kagura as she plucked the feather from her hair and went airborne, pulling Miroku into the boat by his uninjured arm as she swooped by. He was not fooled by Kagura's supposed reasoning for going with Miroku, Kagome knew.

"Now what?" she asked, suddenly nervous as she realized that she was, for all intents and purposes, alone with Sesshoumaru for the first time ever. She felt her knees weaken as the full import of her situation flooded her mind with memories of many thousands of other times she'd been alone with him, all the other Kagomes with their husbands.

Once again, his arm was there to hold her up. "You are injured as well?" he demanded. "Hng." It was a sound that managed to combine great impatience, frustration, annoyance, and boredom all at the same time, somehow. He lowered her to the ground and surveyed the impromptu battlefield. Debris lay all over, the remains of the camp scattered all over like the room of a careless child who'd tired of his toys.

"You will stay here. I will return shortly." And he took to the air without a backward glance.

Kagome went to Shippo's side, slowly and haltingly. She felt old and broken, as if everything she'd ever believed in had just been proven false. Kohaku was senseless as ever but uninjured. Shippo's arm was dislocated and his face was pale as rice flour, sweat dotting it liberally, and she helped him to lay down on her dirtied sleeping bag whilst she checked on Kirara.

The fire-cat was in a bad way; slit open nearly from throat to belly, it was all Kagome could do to keep from gagging at the sight of Kirara's innards threatening to spill out. "Kirara, I need you to transform," she said hoarsely. "You're too big for me to lift, this way."

Obediently, and with a violent twitch as pain wrenched her at the effort, Kirara changed into her small housecat-sized form. Kagome pet her soft ears once, and then took one of Sango's blankets and a scissor from her ever-present rucksack. She cut long strips from it, carefully wiggling them under the injured demon and wrapping them around Kirara's body to try and bind the long, ugly slash together until Kaede could heal her.

She was drenched with sweat and blood by the time Sesshoumaru returned, followed by that two-headed dragon of his. Kagome felt like crying in relief as she got to her feet, wiping as much of the blood from her hands onto the legs of her jeans.

"Thank you," she whispered, eyes swimming with unshed tears as she looked up at him. "Thank you, Sesshoumaru." Unable to stop herself, she reached out and gave his hand a little press of gratitude before turning to help Shippo up. Even that fleeting contact with his warm, living skin made her feel less alone. Shippo helped her get Kohaku on the back of Ah-Un, then scrambled up himself, behind Kohaku.

"Can you hand Kirara to me once I'm up?" she asked Sesshoumaru.

He looked down his nose at her, obviously reluctant to soil himself with the blood and dirt that covered the neko-demon. "You pick her up," he said, and when she had tenderly scooped Kirara into her arms, he lifted Kagome by her waist and plunked her on Ah-Un's back in front of Kohaku's limp form. She couldn't bite back a gasp at the feel of his arm around her, and once more his eyes flew to her face, scrutinizing her.

Without a word, however, he stepped back and gathered a cloud of youki to propel him into the air. Ah-Un took to the sky as well, and Kagome let the wind dry her tears as she carefully clasped Kirara to her. "Shippo, are you ok back there?"

"Yes," he said faintly. "I'll be very glad to see Kaede, though."

Kohaku's weight against her back was reassuring in a strange way, and she closed her eyes. Disbelief raced through her mind, battering impotently at the rock of fact: Inuyasha had betrayed them. He had stolen their half of the Shikon from her, had tried to kill all of them, had kidnapped Sango and run away. It didn't seem possible, and for a moment, Kagome felt sure that this was just another of her bad dreams.

"Midoriko," she muttered, "now would be a good time to come and calm me down." But Midoriko didn't come; the area around Kagome was not a vacant, star-dotted space. It was Sengoku Jidai, the sun was about to rise over the horizon, and their little group was in tatters. "I hope you were right about not letting Inuyasha have the jewel," she continued under her breath at the miko. "Because if all this was for nothing, I'm going to be really pissed off."

"Does she speak to you in your mind?" Sesshoumaru asked, moving to the dragon's side so he could see her as they spoke.

"I—no," Kagome replied, stumbling over the words. "Only in my dreams."

"Dreams are notoriously unreliable for omens and prophecies," he replied with a narrowing of those magnificent amber eyes. "I was under the impression you had direct contact with Midoriko."

Comprehension burst through Kagome. "Is that the only reason you've been helping us?" she demanded, trying valiantly to ignore the shaft of pain lancing through her at the realization. "Because you want to use my miko powers, and connection to Midoriko?"

He frowned, genuinely puzzled. "What other reason could there be?"

She blinked back tears. _He's not them_, she thought. **_They_**_ loved all those other Kagomes, but **he** doesn't love **me**. _"There's no other reason," she replied, her voice sounding clogged. "I was just wondering."

They both fell silent, and it was then that Kagome realized they were going in entirely the wrong direction. "Hey!" she exclaimed. "Edo is to the east. We're heading—" Her blood seemed to congeal in her veins when she saw they were heading away from, not toward, the sunrise. "We're heading west," she continued in a horrified whisper. "You're not bringing us to Kaede at all."

"You promised Miroku you'd take us to Edo!" Shippo shouted, then coughed at the effort.

"I promised only that you would be safe," Sesshoumaru replied calmly. "And so shall you be." He pressed forward once more, taking the lead by a hundred feet, effectively cutting off any future communication.

Kagome shut her gaping mouth when the wind began whistling in it. Anger rose in her belly, thick and sour, and for a moment she thought seriously of leaping off the dragon at Sesshoumaru, intent on beating him to a pulp, but fortunately reason soon asserted itself through the heavy red mist that seemed to be clouding her vision.

_I shouldn't feel betrayed by him,_ she told herself with a mental snarl. _He never made me any promises in this dimension._ She settled back against Kohaku and waited to arrive at wherever Sesshoumaru was taking them, promising that she would give Midoriko what-for the next time she slept.

They flew for a very long time, it seemed, though it was probably only an hour. Finally they descended into a lush valley undulating between two long, mist-shrouded mountains, and Ah-Un touched down outside a modest compound. It was comprised of three buildings ranged along a busy little river, all of it surrounded by a sturdy wall with a prominent roofed gate.

They went through the gate and Kagome was amazed at the beauty of the courtyard, with its carefully tended little patches of trees and flowers and herbs. Immense, beautifully-shaped willow trees drooped over all three structures, providing cool shade in summer and protection from the tempests of winter.

The centre building was of two stories, with a verandah stretching across the front. Kagome assumed this was the main house. From the side of the building emerged a long, low pavilion that reached out halfway over the river. Behind it was what was, judging by the smell, clearly a barn, and it was toward this structure that Ah-Un eagerly headed.

The last building was small and squat, made completely of stone and plaster, appearing to have no wood in it at all. Even its roof was tiled instead of thatched like the house and barn. Sturdy doors made of metal gleamed dully in the weak, early sunlight. "What's that building?" Kagome asked, pointing.

"The _kura_," Sesshoumaru replied. "Treasure-house. Fireproof, so its contents can not be destroyed." He plucked her down from the dragon's back and even assisted Shippo, though the kitsune darted more than one suspicious glance at him. Once Kohaku was standing, staring blankly at the dirt at his feet, Ah-Un ambled off.

Kagome looked around. Beautifully carved wooden lath framed the plaster panels of the walls, and Kagome was surprised to see that the roofs were straight, not curved in the predominant Chinese style. The shoji doors at the front of the house slid open and two figures burst from it, one short and gnarled, the other a little taller and slender.

"Sesshoumaru-sama!" croaked the short one, and Kagome realized it was Jaken. "You have brought guests!" He was brought up short, however, when he clapped his bulbous eyes on the "guests". "You," he said accusingly, pointing at Kagome. "My lord, what is the meaning of this? Why are these humans here?" He had, of course, conveniently forgotten that his companion was also a human.

She didn't seem much bothered by it, however. "Welcome home, Sesshoumaru-sama." she addressed him, and he nodded.

"Thank you, Rin."

Kagome was surprised to see how Rin had changed over the years. She knew Shippo had to grow up eventually, but it had been a while since she'd seen Rin, and was amazed to find the adorable little girl had grown into a lanky young teen. Gone was the charming little sideways ponytail; her hair was carefully gathered in an elaborate knot at the top of her head and she wore a simple but pretty yellow yukata printed with orange flower blossoms over another of palest cream. "Hello, Rin," she said, mustering a weak smile.

Rin smiled back uncertainly. "We have met?"

Kagome nodded. "It was years ago, though. I was with--" her throat threatened to close up "—with Inuyasha, Sesshoumaru's brother."

"Half-brother," Sesshoumaru corrected in a low voice, glowering a little.

The young girl's brow creased as she thought hard. "I remember!" she said at last, and her smile grew.

"It is good to see you again, then." Rin said, regardless of her guardian's interruption, and paused. "But I wish you were not injured."

"Oh!" Kagome looked down at the sad little form in her arms. "I'm not, not really. Kirara is, though, and Shippo—" she motioned to the kitsune, who stood, oddly mute and wide-eyed, beside her. "—is too. Kohaku is fine." She glanced at his silent figure. "Or as fine as he gets," she amended, and suddenly felt immensely tired. Without Inuyasha, Sango, and Miroku, she had Shippo, Kohaku, and Kirara to take care of by herself, and she found herself dreading the responsibility of it all.

"Is there a healer here?" she asked Sesshoumaru. "I'm worried about Kirara, and Shippo is in a lot of pain."

He began to lead them toward the house. "I am the healer," he replied, removing his shoes to reveal pale, narrow feet before stepping inside. Kagome found it hard to believe that he would be willing to heal anyone, and—probably unwisely—said so whilst she awkwardly clutched Kirara to her chest with one hand and shucked her shoes with the other.

He turned from the kaidan tansu in which he rummaged for salve and bandages, and fixed Kagome with a gimlet eye. "Are you saying that you consider my education lacking?"

"Um. No?" She wasn't sure how to respond, really… she hadn't been aware she'd insulted him somehow.

He motioned for her to place Kirara on the low table, then smoothly knelt. His hands were quick and sure as he unwrapped the blanket strips from the neko's body and examined her wound. "To kill, one must also be able to heal. Likewise the opposite. The miko Kaede is doubtless a formidable opponent though she spends the lion's share of her time retrieving you and your friends from the brink of death."

Kagome gaped at him. Had he just… made a joke? It was a very little one, granted, but still…

"Go tend to your kit, miko," Sesshoumaru directed. "Rin?"

"Yes, Sesshoumaru-sama?"

"Take the other boy outside. I find his emptiness… distracting."

Kagome went to Shippo, affectionately brushing aside his ruddy bangs. His skin was clammy and cold in spite of the sweat, and his eyes when he looked up at Kagome were blank with pain.

"Sesshoumaru!" she exclaimed. "I think he's going into shock!"

Sesshoumaru frowned at her lack of honorific and left his ministrations of Kirara to come around the table. He fixed Shippo with a piercing golden gaze, which the boy met unflinchingly, and then wrapped his hand around Shippo's throat, squeezing.

"What—what are you doing?" Kagome shrieked, grabbing at Sesshoumaru's wrist and trying to pull his hand away, but it was like trying to move a mountain. All too soon, Shippo slumped to the side and Sesshoumaru released him. "Are you insane?" she raged at the demon, hands fluttering as she tried to decide whether to check Shippo's pulse or hammer on Sesshoumaru's chest with her fists.

Wisely, she chose to feel for the steady beat of Shippo's heart, then turned to glare at Sesshoumaru. He stood, face impassive, watching her.

"Are you quite done now?" he asked, shouldering her out of the way and wedging Shippo into the corner. Then he grasped Shippo's dislocated arm and, with a sudden and grinding crunch of bone and cartilage, maneuvered the end of it back into its socket. Then he turned back to Kagome with his lips pursed in a snotty little moue, as if daring her to comment.

Kagome, for her part, felt equal amounts of annoyance and embarrassment. Sesshoumaru had, apparently, constricted Shippo's airway to make him pass out so he didn't feel the pain of relocating his shoulder. It was a kindness she hadn't expected from the taiyoukai; she hadn't imagined him to mind overmuch if his reluctant patients were hurting. "Could have given me some warning," she grumbled.

"Ah, but then I would not have had the pleasure of making you leap to a wrong conclusion," he replied, and returned to Kirara as Kagome stared at him once more. He constricted her air flow as well, and set to sewing up the gash in her chest and belly once she was unconscious.

Kagome's annoyance level increased, and embarrassment was replaced by astonishment. Two jokes? Two, in the course of a few minutes? "Who are you, and what have you done with Sesshoumaru?" she asked suspiciously.

He ignored her, busying himself with his methodical stitching of Kirara's flesh. When he was done, he smeared the wound with salve and wrapped her with clean white bandages. Kagome noticed the difficulty he was having with only one hand and came forward to offer her help, but he slid a narrow glance at her and she halted in her tracks.

"Rin," he said quietly when he was done and washing his hand in a bowl of warm water, "attend me." The girl appeared almost immediately. "Take the fire-cat and make her a soft bed in the kitchen, by the fire." With a nod, Rin carefully took Kirara and left the room. Then he bent over Shippo and scooped the boy into the crook of his arm, carrying him up the steps whilst tossing over his shoulder, "Bring the other boy," to Kagome.

She went outside to fetch Kohaku. Rin had seated him beside a little fountain, and his blank eyes were fixed on the water trickling down. "Kohaku," Kagome said, forcing some cheer into her voice. "Time for some rest." She took his arm and tugged him to his feet, and for just a moment something in his gaze flickered, nearly focused… Kagome held her breath, waiting, but it slipped away, and she was left disappointed.

Still, it was better than nothing, wasn't it? Her natural optimism asserted itself, and her step was a little lighter as she guided him up the stairs and followed the sound of voices to a bedroom. She slid open the fusuma screen and found two sleeping pallets side by side, with Shippo already occupying one of them. Sesshoumaru was drawing a blanket up over him.

Kagome led Kohaku to the other pallet and gently pushed him down onto it, arranging his limbs in what she hoped was a comfortable way, and pulled a blanket over him.

"Jaken is preparing a meal for us," Sesshoumaru said, leading the way downstairs once more.

Unsure what to do, Kagome trailed listlessly after him, tugging at her filthy clothes with their crust of dried blood and aware of the potential for disaster. "Um, could I wash off before I ruin something?" She was terrified of brushing against the exquisitely painted fusuma, and even now feared the flakes of who-knew-what falling from her onto the pristine tatami.

He did not pause in stride, but continued toward a small chamber on the river-side of the house, drawing open the door and gesturing within to a washbasin. On a low stool beside it was folded a pile of what were clearly several kimono, and under the stool were neatly placed a pair of sandals. "Clean yourself and join me in the dining room," Sesshoumaru said, leaving her.

Kagome was only too thrilled to strip off her fouled clothing and scrub at herself until her skin was pink and glowing. The warmth they had enjoyed further south had not endured, and she was shivering and goosepimply by the end of her impromptu bath, so gratefully wrapped herself in three of the kimono: a sea-blue kosode first, then pure-white over that, and finally emerald-green embroidered with golden finches perched on cherry-tree branches.

She combed her hair with the little carved-wood comb she found there, and grimaced that she would not be able to wash it just yet. She settled for braiding it and fluffing her bangs and hoping she was not too plain-looking in this amazing house—everything was so perfectly and beautifully created and placed that she felt anxious, like it was a museum in her time and she'd damage something if she touched it or even looked too hard.

Leaving the bathing chamber, she realized she was standing in a long corridor lined with closed doors. Which one was Sesshoumaru behind? She quickly became distracted, staring in awe at the beauty of the scenes painted upon the length of wall. She realized, after a while, that the scenes were of the life of Sesshoumaru's and Inuyasha's father, Inutaisho.

Halfway down the hall, an auburn-furred tiger appeared in the scenes, and then a tiny white puppy soon thereafter: Sesshoumaru as a child. "Ohh," Kagome found herself cooing. "Issocute…"

Behind her, the faintly grating sound of a throat being cleared made Kagome straighten so fast her vertebrae cracked audibly. "Hi!" she said brightly as Sesshoumaru fixed her with a glare so cold she fully expected ice crystals to form on her body.

"Your frivolity is inappropriate in times such as these, miko," he informed her, "or have you forgotten the events of the night?"

She had not. "It's just how I deal with stress," she snapped, then winced at how incredibly stupid it was to be rude to a man who could kill her before she even realized she was in danger. Thankfully, however, he merely looked bored with her show of temper and turned away.

"Come with me," he said, and she followed him into the dining room with its low table of inlaid enamel, in a deep rich red that gleamed like fresh blood, and black cushions heavily embroidered in every colour imaginable. Three places were set, one at the head and one on both left and right, and several dishes were placed on the table, covered but steam still escaped.

Rin was already seated, waiting less than patiently if the rather mutinous expression on her face was anything to judge by, but she managed a sweet tone when she asked, "Get lost?"

"Distracted by the paintings," Kagome clarified, seating herself.

"Oh, did you see the one of Sesshoumaru-sama as a child?" Rin gushed, her bowl of miso soup halted halfway to her mouth as she grinned at Kagome. "Issocute!"

A flick of that demon-lord's chopsticks sent a shower of rice at the child. "Silence," he commanded.

Kagome was agape at what appeared at first to be an inconceivably playful response to Rin's teasing until the girl leapt up with a shriek. "Aieee!" she wailed and dashed from the room, hands to her head as if afraid it were about to come off her neck. Kagome slowly, carefully turned her own head to stare at Sesshoumaru.

"Rin is, I am told, at a stage of development where the state of her hair is of obsessive importance," he said, then took a bite of rice, chewing thoughtfully. "Therefore, it is where I focus my attention when she requires discipline." Kagome couldn't think of a response to that, so just ate an egg while Jaken came in to see if anything were required.

At the sight of the rice scattered over the table, cushion, and tatami, the toad-demon pursed his beak into a smirk. "What did she do this time, my lord?"

Sesshoumaru shook his head slightly, indicating he didn't want to discuss it. Kagome just goggled at the situation. "Eat," he commanded, aware without looking at her that she was staring at him in amazement.

She tried to eat, but with the ensuing silence, the layers of protective numbness her mind had constructed to shield her against the horrors of the night were quickly melting away. It was not long before her throat was too thick with unshed tears for her to swallow the food. "I would like to rest," she forced out, replacing her chopsticks neatly by her plate.

His gaze rested on her, so long she could practically feel its weight. Without a word, he rose and led her back upstairs to another bedroom. This one was smaller, with a low narrow bed instead of a pallet, and a kimono chest tucked into the corner.

"Thank you," she said, bowing, and he left her there. Gratefully, she didn't even bother undressing, but just sank onto the bed and closed her eyes.

But sleep would not come. Instead, images of her friends' faces as they were injured, of Inuyasha as he fought them, filled her mind to battle for space with all those Kagomes' memories, and her conflict over the enigma that was this dimension's Sesshoumaru…

Groaning, she rolled off the bed and stuck her feet in her sandals. She left her room, peeking in on Shippo and Kohaku and finding them still peacefully asleep. She went downstairs, calling softly for Sesshoumaru and Rin and even Jaken, but no one answered. She poked her head into various doors in search of them, becoming more and more amazed as one lovely room after another was revealed to her.

Here was the dining room again, every grain of rice cleaned away. There was a study, judging by the scrolls and books littering every surface. A third room revealed not a stick of furniture, but its walls held every imaginable manner of weapon, bound to the frames of the fusuma by slender leather straps and glinting dully in the meagre sunlight permitted through the paper-covered windows.

A final door led to the little covered pavilion stretching over the river, and at the cool touch of moist air on her face, Kagome eagerly pushed open the shoji and stepped outside. The boards beneath her feet had a tiny tremor from the force of the water rushing past supportive poles, and the sounds—lapping water, buzzing insects, leaves rustled by the breeze—surrounded her with a pleasant sense of mundanity. Her world might be crumbling, but here, at least, everything was as it should be.

She sat sideways on the little bench built into the end of the pavilion, pulling her knees to her chin and staring at the foam rising on the currents of water below. Much of what had occurred during the night was because of her, she felt. If she had heeded Midoriko's warning about Inuyasha, she could have done… what, exactly? There was little she could think of that would have worked to convince him to let her put her half of the Shikon into a safe place—he'd been furious enough when she'd given Naraku's half to Sesshoumaru.

And telling him the truth, that he couldn't be allowed to become a full demon, that he couldn't be trusted not to wreak havoc and mayhem, hadn't been an option either. Kagome had worked so hard to earn even a smidgen of the elusive, barely-there trust of Inuyasha. She knew how betrayed and hurt he would have been had she simply told him that he could never have his dream, that he was too unstable and dangerous, even if it were true.

"Dammit," she whispered, scrubbing at the tears that wet her cheeks. "This is all my fault."

"Why?" asked Sesshoumaru from behind her. Slowly, Kagome turned on the bench to face him. He stood in a slant of sunlight that fell between the ivy-threaded lattice forming the roof of the pavilion, head tilted to one side in curiosity and eyes lit by intelligence. She ruthlessly choked back the part of her that wanted to launch herself at him, to feel his arms—arm—around her, comforting her.

"Midoriko told me that Inuyasha couldn't be trusted around the jewel," she replied once the lump in her throat had subsided a little. "I refused to believe her, told her he wasn't like that." Kagome chose to ignore his tiny sound of disbelief. "She told me I had to kill him before he hurt anyone. I couldn't, and now Miroku and Shippo and Kirara are hurt, and he's taken Sango and half of the Shikon." She dropped her face down to hide it against her knees. "I thought it would be enough, giving you half of it, but it wasn't."

Her head snapped up. "Where did you put it? Is it safe? He can't get it, can he?" Her gaze flicked to the kura. "It's not in there, is it? Because I think he can break through a wall and get in."

"It is safe," was all Sesshoumaru said. "What else does Midoriko tell you?"

Kagome felt herself blush horribly. No, no, no, she thought. There's no way I'm telling him we're fated to fall in love and get married. "Um," she said in a thin, high voice, "not so much, really."

That glorious silver-ivory head tilted slowly to the other side. "You are a terrible liar," he told her. "Quite the worst I've ever encountered."

"Ha ha," she replied nervously. "At least I excel at something, huh?"

"A dubious excellence." He didn't move, and she doubted he was even blinking, as he watched her. "Come," he said after a moment, his voice a little lower, its cadence smoother, soft and soothing. "We are allies now; will you not share your knowledge with me?" It sounded impossibly seductive, as it was meant to, and Kagome felt bits of her body catch on fire even as she gave a little shiver.

"Oooh," she muttered, eyes huge and frightened, "that is so wrong and unfair, you know."

Sesshoumaru stepped closer until the wind, blowing around them, fluttered the pale sleeves of his haori against her legs. "I don't know what you mean," he continued in that same silken tone, and a dozen different scenes of love—most centred around her using her mouth on him—rushed into her head, making her gasp. Kagome twitched, her hands reaching for him automatically before she caught herself and sat on them.

"Evil," she whispered. "You are evil."

"I do try," he said with a demure, close-lipped smile, as if had been a compliment. Kagome rolled her eyes and dropped her head to her knees once more. "Do not hide yourself from me, girl," he said suddenly, the volume of his voice unchanged but the tone arctic, without a hint of the teasing that had suffused it just a moment ago. "If we are to fight together, I will not have a coward at my side."

She raised her face and met his fierce gaze. "Are we going to fight together, then?" she asked. "Are you making it official?"

He tilted his chin up, the very image of determination. "I am."

"Why?"

"This Sesshoumaru is under no obligation to reveal his motivations to you, ningen."

"Great," Kagome grumbled. "Before I was 'girl', now I'm 'ningen'. Definitely on my way down. Soon you'll just be calling me 'dungball'."

"That will certainly be an option if you choose never to reveal your name to me," he said testily, staring out over the river to the far shore.

She gaped at him. "I didn't realize you didn't know it."

"I do have other things to do with my days beside memorize the names of my half-brother's companions," Sesshoumaru commented, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

They both fell silent, listening to the sounds of water and air. "Higurashi Kagome," she said suddenly.

To her surprise, he bowed to her. It was a tiny bow, scarcely a nod of the head, but it was there. "Sesshoumaru, son of Inutaisho of the West and Akako of the North."

"I know," she said immediately, then wished she hadn't when his gaze sharpened. "I—Inuyasha told me," she offered lamely. She couldn't just say she knew because of all the Kagomes' memories, could she?

"Liar," he said gently. "Must I beat you to obtain the truth?"

"You can try," she said, and yawned, hastily covered it with one hand. "But I still won't tell."

Sesshoumaru sighed. "I do not think I am getting a very good bargain in this partnership," he complained. "You lie to me, you are weak and foolish and do not heed the advice of those far wiser than you."

Midoriko's words came back to her. "Where I falter, you will endure," Kagome whispered. She blinked up at him, seeing his frustration and anger and feeling sorry for causing it. "I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you more. But I can't. Not yet."

He turned and walked away from her, toward the house. At the door, he paused, one long hand on the shoji frame as he half-turned back to her, looking over his shoulder through slitted eyes. "Soon," he said. "You will be able to tell me more, soon."

* * *

_kaidan tansu_ step chest, a series of modular drawers able to be arranged in a step-pattern so it could be used to climb from one floor to the next above. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **Very sorry I missed updating last week, was v. busy with work etc. so I updated a day early this week to make up for it. Might even post chapter 8 in a few days instead of next week, since this new chapter is kinda short at only 2,967 words. Many thanks to all of you who have complimented this story so lavishly, I'm thrilled you're enjoying it so much!

**purplepeopleeater:** I couldn't agree with you more! The very issue of how uncompatible Kagome and Sesshoumaru are is how this fic came to be in the first place-- I knew to make it believable the premise would have to be fairly complex, and I got to thinking, and eventually the plot for this bad boy just sort of fell together :)

**Sabriel:** thanks for letting me know about the italicized paragraph, have fixed it.

****

**One Less Star  
Chapter 7**

Kagura reclined on her side in the floating feather-boat, head propped on her elbow, and watched as Miroku ran. Even had she not possessed demonic speed, she'd have had no trouble keeping up with him—he'd been slowing down for the last ten minutes until his run had become a jog, and now a sluggish, pained walk.

"Are you going to give me a ride yet?" he asked from between gritted teeth, injured arm held stiffly to his side.

She only quirked a dark brow. "You might have ridden this entire distance, had you but asked," she said in surprise, then reached out a hand to help him board. "Why did you not?" She was silent as he slowly and painfully hauled himself aboard.

"It's not considered polite to invite yourself," Miroku replied at last, flopping back and draping his uninjured arm over his eyes, catching his breath and willing his pain to recede. The feather-boat took to the air in earnest, zipping above the tree tops, and he relished the feeling of cool air on his face.

"But it is considered polite to make demands when you have reached the end of your endurance?" Kagura quipped. "Houshi, you have spent yourself down my throat. I hardly think we need to stand on ceremony anymore."

Slowly, Miroku lifted his arm and turned incredulous eyes to her, staring in amazement as she calmly looked back at him. There was no embarrassment, no shy dropping gaze, no proud boldness at her daring. Just placid red eyes under dark bangs.

"I've been wondering," he commented, "what you're doing here."

"We are following Inuyasha," she replied, but it was clear she was evading him. He watched her for several long minutes, hoping the piercing quality of his gaze would wear her down into confessing her true purpose, but she only smirked sideways at him.

"Do you forget who created me?" she asked. "Your stare cannot begin to compare to Naraku's. You will learn nothing from me by simply watching."

"Then explain it to me," he urged. "Sesshoumaru commands your loyalty now, is that right?"

"Naraku never had my loyalty," she ground out, her voice low and venomous and her eyes flashing with anger. "He forced me to comply, bending to his will in all things."

"How did he force you?" Miroku wondered aloud. "What could he have held over you?" He shifted carefully, making sure not to jar his arm.

"My heart," she whispered, hands moving unconsciously to the centre of her chest. She folded them protectively over her breast, small and white. "He took it from me, and would have had no compunctions about crushing it, killing me, if ever I dared to disobey him."

"But you have it back now," he stated, recalling the silvery line of a scar between her breasts during their interlude the other day. "How?"

"Naraku was a cruel bastard to his allies as well as his foes," Kagura replied, facing forward in the boat, allowing the wind to stream through her hair and ruffle the sleeves of her kimono. "He kept our hearts in jars within plain sight." Her face settled into lines of pure hatred. "He liked taunting us with how easily we could die, if the fancy took him."

"Our?" he prompted. "Kanna and the others, as well?"

She nodded. "My spite knows no bounds where he is concerned, and I knew that to deprive him of his victory, at this late and last hour, would be a cruel setback indeed. But to accomplish it, I must be able to act freely... The morning of the battle between your friends and Naraku, the chamber containing the jars was there, open and waiting for me, it seemed."

Kagura sucked in a breath. "I took my heart. Took it, and replaced it with the heart of one of those baboons he slaughters for his pelts." Her pretty little face contorted into a sneer. "The fool never knew... I cut open my own chest, replaced my heart in its rightful home." She met Miroku's gaze with her own fierce one. "It is mine once more, and none shall take it from me again."

"I... don't blame you," Miroku said, feeling somewhat stunned by her revelation. What other response could he give? He did not understand someone who was terrible even to those with whom he was allied. "And Sesshoumaru? Why exchange one master for another?"

"Protection," she replied succinctly. "His name holds great power in all the lands. Being known as his vassal carries great influence."

Her words made a strange weight settle in Miroku's chest as he remembered Kagome... Kagome, and her strange behaviour of late... Kagome, who was at that moment in the hands of the taiyoukai. Sesshoumaru himself was even more of an enigma than ever, given his recent conduct.

"It has become increasingly hard to tell friend from foe," Miroku murmured, lifting troubled blue eyes to Kagura's face. "You and Sesshoumaru are helping us, Inuyasha attacks us..."

"Are not all things fluid, houshi?" she asked, gaze teasing as she reminded him of one of his own lessons. "Is not change the only constant? Are not all things doomed to end?" At his slow nod, she flashed him a smug grin. "And so it is with this. Foes become friends, and friends--"

"And friends need help," Miroku finished for her, voice very firm. "Know this, Kagura. Inuyasha is not my foe. He made a mistake, and needs our help to correct it. No matter what he does, we aim to subdue—not kill."

She nodded slowly, then cocked her head to one side. "It would seem," she told him, "that we shall have the opportunity to subdue him sooner than I had expected." She peered into the trees surrounding them, eyes narrowing as she concentrated. "There is stronger youki here. They are near. But," she continued, "I wonder if you are in any state to continue." Kagura's gaze settled on his arm, still seeping an alarming amount of blood; the sleeve of his robes was soaked with it, and there was an obscene spattering of scarlet drops on the pristine whiteness of the feather-boat.

His own gaze followed hers; he pushed up his sleeve and observed the long, deep, and jagged gash in his arm. "I'm fine," he muttered, and set to trying to rip a few strips off his hem to bind it with. "It'll stop in a little while, once I wrap it—" But his fingers were going numb, and felt thick and awkward as they fumbled with the cloth, refusing to obey him.

Frowning, he tried to concentrate, but it was hard as sweat dripped off his forehead into his eyes. And yet he was cold, very cold, and his head was swimming. Straightening, he blinked rapidly, trying to focus on Kagura's face, but she was merely a blur in his vision.

"Houshi?" she asked as blackness began to encroach on the edges of his vision. The numbness rushed from his fingers up his arms, engulfing him, and the last thing he heard before sliding sideways was her voice: "Houshi?"

Then cool hands caught him, laid him down, and he let himself sink into the welcoming dark where there was no pain or blood or betrayal, just peace and calm. With a sigh, Miroku fainted.

* * *

Sango woke abruptly, with the clarity of mind characteristic of a warrior. She remembered everything of what had happened. And knowing Inuyasha, he was probably aware that she was no longer unconscious.

"Welcome back, Sango," he said, proving her theory. "Ready to walk on your own?" He pulled her off his shoulder and set her on her feet, not reaching out to steady her when she stumbled uncertainly.

The sun had risen while Sango had been unconscious. In the early light shafting through the tree branches above, Inuyasha's eyes were wary and grim but there was no longer any tinge of red.

"The only place I'm walking is back to the others," Sango said, her voice tight. She was unnerved and a little scared by Inuyasha, now that she had seen him fight them for the shard, and wanted nothing so much as to have everything back to how it used to be, their little party united by hatred of Naraku. This way, with lines blurred and alliances shifting, she felt like she'd stepped off a cliff and was falling, falling…

His fists curled, but he didn't come any closer to her. "I can't let you do that."

"Inuyasha, this is—this is insane!" she exploded, her fear of him overcome by her frustration. "You can't think they'll just let you take the jewel, and me, and won't come after you!"

"They already are," he admitted, head low as he peered up at her through his bangs. "That's why I need you."

Sango sighed. "You already saw that Sesshoumaru would have gladly killed me to stop you, Inuyasha. Having me won't stop him."

He smirked. "Good thing it's not Sesshoumaru following us, then."

"Who is it, then?" she demanded, hands on hips. She became aware, then, that she wore only a flimsy sleeping yukata over her taijiya uniform and it probably looked ridiculous. Remembering the wildness in Inuyasha's eyes when he'd fought them, however, she found herself glad for yet another layer of fabric between them, even as she wasn't sure exactly why.

"Miroku and Kagura." His eyes gleamed with amusement. "Didn't figure them for a couple."

"They're not a couple," Sango snapped automatically, feeling her head pound harder, then paused. "Why is Kagura involved in all this, anyway?"

He shrugged. "Working for Sesshoumaru now, I guess."

"Well, that doesn't matter," she said after a moment of pondering yet another strange partnership. "You can't do this, Inuyasha. Even with half of the Shikon, Sesshoumaru has the other half. You two have been at loggerheads for years about the Tetsusaiga, and neither of you has been able to kill the other."

He remained stubbornly silent, and turned his head away a little to avoid eye contact. Sango stared at him a long moment, trying to impress upon him the severity of what he'd done. "It won't be any different for this, except if you don't go back right now and give Kagome the jewel and make amends for what you've done, you won't have any friends."

He whipped back to her, glaring. "Oh, like the great friends I have now? The ones who attacked me to stop me from taking the one thing I've wanted for the past sixty years?" He snorted. "Yeah, great friends."

She was silent a moment, choosing her next words carefully. "Inuyasha, I don't pretend to understand why Kagome can't let you have the Shikon now that it can be put together. But I know that we have to trust her. If she can't give the jewel to you, I'm positive there's a perfectly good reason for it."

"Then why didn't she say that?" he asked, and Sango saw for the first time how hurt he was by it all. Kagome's refusal to give him the Shikon no Tama had cut him deeply. Her chest clenched for him in sympathy, and she reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly.

"I don't know," she had to admit. "But I'm sure there was a good reason for that, too. We just have to trust her."

"That's the problem!" Inuyasha snarled, pulling away from her. "Every time I try to trust her, all I can think of is Kikyo and how she sealed me to that fucking tree." His voice was low, he was turned from her, and his head was bowed. Sango doubted he even remembered she was there.

"I've been waiting for years for Kagome to prove to me that she's willing to believe the worst of me, just like Kikyo," he whispered. "And now she has. You were all willing to fight me, to kill me if you had to. You all turned on me, the only people I've ever cared for. How am I supposed to forgive that? How can I be sure you won't do it again?"

He turned to her, eyes blazing with pain and betrayal. "I can't, Sango. It hurts too much."

Sango, for her part, was speechless. She couldn't believe he was revealing so much about his feelings, that he'd actually admitted he felt pain, that they'd gotten to him. He always pretended he was impenetrable. It was so very unlike him…

She gasped. Of course! The shard was making Inuyasha give in to his impulses, impulses he'd normally have been able to suppress. Determination filled her, determination to get that tainted shard out of her friend as soon as possible. But it was mingled strongly with pain on his behalf… she ached to hear him admit how deeply he was hurt. She hadn't realized how very sensitive he was—it was easy to forget when he acted like such a jerk most of the time.

But standing here now, seeing the way his golden eyes shimmered with the faintest hint of tears, she felt his loneliness like a physical thing. It called to her own, the living wound in her chest since the slaughter of her village, since the corruption of Kohaku, since the death of her father and all that she had known.

She'd landed on her feet, certainly. She always had, and always would. But the grief would always be there, a hard knot behind her heart.

"I know it hurts," she said at last, and reached for his hand again. "But that's part of life, Inuyasha. The alternative is being alone forever, if you can't trust. You always say you don't need anyone, that we're all a bother to you, but do you really mean it? Would you be happier with no one?

"I was so alone after Father and Kohaku died, and even more so when I learnt my village was destroyed. But when I met up with all of you, I found another family. When I began to trust and love all of you, it made the pain easier to bear."

She tugged on his hand, and grabbed for the other one, too. "Please, Inuyasha. Don't do this to yourself. You're too good a person to be alone forever. Don't let your fixation with becoming a full demon ruin this for you. Give back the jewel."

He stared down at her with frightening intensity. "You trust me? You… love me?"

Sango swallowed, unnerved by his reaction. "Yes. Of course I do! I love all of you, you and Kagome and Shippo and even Miroku, when he's keeping his hands to himself—"

Her words were cut off by his lunge toward her, and then again when her air was cut off by his embrace. "Inuyasha, what—?" His face was buried in her hair, but she could still hear him despite the muffled voice.

"No one's ever said that to me before," he muttered.

She stared in shock at the trees behind him. In her wildest dreams, she'd never expected Inuyasha to _hug_ her. It was… it was very weird. Something, her heart she suspected, twisted in her chest and her arms came up to enclose him in kind.

"Inuyasha," she whispered.

And then she was crying, crying for her own losses as well as for him. She hadn't let herself show this sorrow to anyone else, preferring to do her weeping in private, hiding it even from Kagome. But now, with a warm shoulder against her face and arms around her, she couldn't stem the tide, couldn't push it back.

Inuyasha's arms tightened around her. He said nothing, but just being there was enough for her. She wept raggedly against him, for her father, for her long-departed mother, and most of all for Kohaku. Fresh worry swept through her—if Miroku and Kagura were coming after her and Inuyasha, that left Kagome alone with just Sesshoumaru, having to take care of Kohaku as well as Shippo and Kirara.

"Inuyasha," she gasped, "we really have to go back. We can't leave Kagome with Sesshoumaru, there's no telling what he'll do, and Shippo and Kirara are hurt—"

Then she cursed herself for mentioning his half-brother's name, because it chased away any softness that might have been in Inuyasha's eyes, and with it any chance she might have had to convince him. Sango's head was throbbing so hard now from her crying that she thought it might split open.

"She's probably perfectly happy, being with him," Inuyasha snarled, releasing her like something that disgusted him. "Just where she wanted. It's just good I got the rest of the jewel away from her before she gave that to him, too. No telling what he'd do if he had a wish to make—probably kill every human in the world, or make all youkai invincible. Or make his hair prettier."

He twitched his head to the side, sniffing. "They're catching up," he said, and turned away so she could climb on his back. When her weight was not immediately forthcoming, he glared over his shoulder at her. "Either you come with me this way, or over my shoulder again."

Sango considered making a break for it, but knew he'd catch her within five steps. Weaponless, her head still pounding from being knocked out before, it was hopeless. And she didn't want to spend another few hours with his bony shoulder jouncing into her solar plexus.

With a resigned sigh, she clambered onto his back. His hands grasped her knees, and then they were airborne once more.

Sango just hoped that Kagura's feather-boat was able to make good time, or there was no telling what could happen.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** This one's longer, over 4k words. Thanks to all reviewers, I appreciate your enthusiasm for this story and am glad you're enjoying it so much :) I'm so pleased youall like how I'm building the relationships between the pairs.

I personally dislike when there's no real reason for a couple to fall in love but the author informs us that, nevertheless, they are. Bleh. So I try hard to show _how_ people are falling in love, and making us understand how the characters find each other lovable. That sorta thing _matters_ to me :)

Heap-big Kag/Sess interaction in this chapter; please let me know how I did with it, will you? Thanks!

**One Less Star, Chapter 8**

Kagome was no more settled after her conversation with Sesshoumaru than she'd been prior to it, but exhaustion defeated her overburdened mind and she sank gratefully onto the bed, swiftly falling asleep. Her dreams were jumbled and unsettling, but still she slept on, waking in the late afternoon to a gentle touch on her shoulder.

"Kagome-san," Rin whispered, "it's time for dinner, and..." She trailed off, gesturing with her hand to the corner, where Shippo was curled up in one of his blankets, soundly unconscious.

"We're all used to sleeping to each other," Kagome replied softly, slipping from her bed to kneel by him. "He probably got lonely, and needed to be near a familiar scent." She made sure his sling still bound his arm close to his body, and combed her fingers through his ruddy bangs. "Shippo," she said, "it's time to wake up. You're hungry, aren't you?"

His eyes squinched shut as he yawned and slowly propped himself upon his good arm. "Ramen?" he asked hopefully. "And maybe Inuyasha could catch some rabbits, instead of fish. I'm so tired of... fish..." His words trailed off when he opened his eyes and saw Rin standing behind Kagome, watching with interest. "Oh," he said lamely, remembering the events of the night. "No wonder my shoulder hurts so much." His green eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Did Sesshoumaru try to strangle me?"

"That was just to, er, knock you out," Kagome explained. "So you wouldn't feel the pain of putting your shoulder back in."

Beside her, Rin bobbed her head. "When I broke my ankle last year, he did that to me before setting the bones," she offered, then leant closer, as if divulging a major secret. "It scared the heck out of me, too."

At her increased proximity, Shippo flushed bright pink and began to blink rapidly. "Really?" he squeaked, then cleared his throat. "Really?" he asked again, his voice artificially lower. "How did you manage to break your ankle?"

Kagome stood and watched as Rin began to explain, but her presence was already forgotten as the two young people focused on each other. Hiding a smile, she smoothed her kimono and left the room, making her way to the boys' room for Kohaku. It would be good for Shippo to have someone his own age to spend time with; he spent so much time with adults, fighting for their lives, that she was worried he didn't get enough time to just be a kid. And she was sure it was much the same for Rin; she didn't expect the girl had much opportunity for fun and playing, here with Sesshoumaru and Jaken.

Kohaku lay on his pallet just as she'd left him; she peeled back his covers and took his hand, indicating he should stand. At eighteen years of age, he was a handsome, lanky boy with dark hair put back in a little queue not unlike Miroku's. The spray of freckles across his nose gave him a boyish air that contrasted sharply with the dead flatness of his eyes, and Kagome sighed in pity for him, straightening his clothes before leading him downstairs.

The dining room was empty, but the table was spread with a lavish array of dishes, including...

"Oden!" Kagome couldn't help but squeal in delight, almost pushing Kohaku onto a cushion in her haste to begin the meal. She waited a few minutes, then a few minutes more, and finally decided to go look for everyone else. She retrieved Rin and Shippo from upstairs, and searched for Sesshoumaru but he was nowhere to be found.

Jaken, however, was in the kitchen washing a stack of dishes and did not appear very happy to see her. "Why are you here when the food I slaved to cook for you is getting cold?" he squawked, flapping a soggy dishtowel at her. "Go! Eat!"

So she went and ate. Rin tried not to stare as Kagome fed Kohaku, but she was certainly not accustomed to the sight of a young man on the verge of adulthood being hand-fed by a woman only a few years older than he. Feeding Kohaku was not difficult; once you got the food in his mouth, he seemed to take over, chewing and swallowing without problem until he was full and would no longer open his mouth for the next bite.

Kagome had gotten very good at this in the past weeks since Kohaku had been returned to them, as she'd taken turns doing it with Sango. Once he was full, she was able to turn her full attention to her own meal instead of grabbing a mouthful between attending to him. Finally, full and content, she sat back a little and smiled at the others. "I didn't know Jaken was such a good cook."

"So's Sesshoumaru-sama," Rin said absently, using her chopsticks to flick a single grain of rice across the table at Shippo and then grinning when it hit him squarely between the eyes.

"Mmm," Kagome replied automatically as a few dozen memories floated to the forefront of her mind from the other Kagomes. Her eyes drifted shut in bliss as she recalled the taste of many, many meals he'd cooked for her. "His osechiis amazing... he could be the Iron Chef of all Iron Chefs." No response was forthcoming, and the faint clatter of chopsticks onto a plate seemed impossibly loud in the sudden silence. Kagome opened her eyes in confusion to find Rin staring at her.

"Kagome-san," the girl began slowly, "how did you know that?"

"Yes, Kagome-san," Sesshoumaru added mockingly from the door, "I too am interested in your answer."

He wore an informal, dark blue yukata under grey hakama, and the surprise of seeing him in something other than his white and red haori combined with her surprise and embarrassment to render her incapable of response. "Come now," he prompted, his tone more mocking than impatient, "we are waiting."

Kagome simply stared at him, unsure what to do or say. This was a _disaster_. She'd never had any intention of telling him the rest of Midoriko's directive, but it appeared she'd just managed to destroy any carefully laid plans for deception. Not that she'd had many, and not that the word 'carefully' could be applied too accurately to them...

"Children," Sesshoumaru said softly, "go help Jaken in the kitchen." There was something in his voice that had Shippo and Rin on their feet before he'd finished the sentence, tugging Kohaku up to follow after them.

And then they were alone. "Miko," he began, "I have been extraordinarily patient with you, but I require answers. You will provide them. Now."

Kagome felt her stomach drop to the vicinity of her feet. "Not here," she mumbled. "Outside. I need some air."

He sliced her a glance that said she was fooling no one with her delay tactics, but led her outside to the pavilion. She thought of stalling some more in selecting the ideal place to sit, then smoothing her clothing just so, but knew from the other Kagomes' experience that it would just drive him closer to the edge of losing his patience than he already was.

Sesshoumaru didn't say a word, simply looked down at her with those eyes of his, and waited. Kagome sighed. How to phrase it? If she were careful, all was not lost. With a deep breath, Kagome forged ahead.

"Midoriko has said that your family and the mikos who protect the Shikon no Tama are fated to work together to protect it," she began slowly. There, that sounded nice and innocuous.

"My father had no dealings with the Shikon no Tama," Sesshoumaru said flatly.

Damn. She'd forgotten that he was quite bright, with a superb memory, and certainly not about to just take what she was saying at face value without question. "And Inuyasha has never been concerned with protecting it; he wants only to use it, you little liar."

"Stop _calling_ me that!" Kagome exclaimed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she struggled to think.

"Then stop _doing _it," he shot back. "You must think me truly stupid indeed, to believe these half-truths that would not deceive a child." Shocked, Kagome began to stammer a protest but he forged on. "Do you think I have noticed nothing of your behaviour in these last months? You have been conciliatory toward me, even concerned for my welfare, when before you desired only my death."

"That's not true," Kagome said miserably. "I never wanted you dead, just for you to stay away from us and not try to kill Inuyasha so much."

His hand waved away her words in a languid motion. "Details," he dismissed it. "Your words and actions in recent days are puzzling. You will now explain them to my satisfaction." His pronunciation of that last word, so sibilant, caused a shiver to run down Kagome's spine, and she knew better than to hope he hadn't noticed.

"And that is another thing," he continued, beginning to circle around her like the predator he was. She stood, unmoving, arms held stiffly to her sides and fists clenched as she closed her eyes tightly, unable to bear the speculation on his handsome face, the curiosity in those bright eyes as he studied her. "You desire me now, where you did not last year, or any time prior to several months ago."

"No, I don't," she protested feebly. "I'm just lonely, is all. I... haven't been home to see my boyfriend in a long time," she continued, warming to her subject, "and I'm a normal, healthy young woman. I have needs that aren't being met."

She opened her eyes to find him staring down at her. "Liar," he whispered, making her shudder. "You remain untouched, even by Inuyasha." He cocked his head to one side. "And why is that, I wonder? Lack of trying on his part? On yours? Or lack of opportunity perhaps, with all those people milling about... I do not expect there to be much time for romance with the monk, the kitsune, and the taijiya present."

Kagome's eyes drifted shut once more as heat pooled in her belly, and lower. He was so close, his voice so low, and she could smell him, that familiar and yet new scent of snow and pine unique to him. His hair swirled round him as he continued to walk in a circle around her, brushing her hands, caressing her skin, and she bit back a whimper.

"Open your eyes," he murmured in her ear, and she was helpless to disobey. He stood before her, and cupped her face in his large hand, his fingers threading into her hair. "You want me, badly. It is... intriguing, is it not? And so I wish to know why. _Why_ do you want me, all of a sudden? Why the apologies, the pleasantness?" When she did not response, he flexed his fingers, extending his claws to press the slightest bit into her scalp. Her breath caught in her throat-- it tingled, almost, but didn't hurt. "Why did you scream my name, and not Inuyasha's, when we stabbed each other?"

Kagome's mind raced. He would be satisfied with nothing but the truth, but the truth was sure to infuriate him. Round and round it went, this circular logic, until she did the only thing she could think of in that situation: she burst into tears.

She felt, rather than heard, his sigh. "It is to your everlasting good fortune," he muttered, "that you are more valuable to me alive than dead."

His words only made her cry harder. The past few days had been horrible, each worst than the next. She was worried about Sango and Miroku, and devastated over Inuyasha's corruption by the tainted shard. Shippo and Kirara were hurt, and they and Kohaku were depending on her to take care of them, and she was basically a prisoner of the one man on the planet she was destined to fall in love with and he saw her as nothing more than a pawn to use.

"Midoriko is wrong," she declared, uncaring anymore if he learnt the truth and exploded because of it. "She has to be. This is hopeless." She looked up at him with huge, teary eyes. "_You're _hopeless."

He slowly, almost tenderly, brushed the tears from her cheek with his thumb. "Explain," he said, "or I will kill you where you stand. Miko or not, powerful or not, I tire of this."

Kagome wrenched herself away, facing across the river and hugging her arms close around her waist as she stared out over the undulating currents, gasping a little.

"You were right, of course," she said at last. "Your father had nothing to do with the Shikon no Tama, and Inuyasha's only ever wanted to use it to become a full demon. The mikos involved with it, and the men of your family... we're slated for something far more important than just protecting the Shikon no Tama." Then she stopped, unsure if she could continue.

"Carry on," he growled.

She turned to face him once more. "We're supposed to heal the rift between youkai and ningen worlds. Your father, Inutaisho... and Midoriko. They loved each other." Sesshoumaru's spine seemed to snap even straighter than before, and he glared at her, but did not deny it. "Still do, actually. Always will." She sighed. "And Inuyasha... there'll never be anyone for him but Kikyo." It was true. She knew he cared for her, perhaps even loved her in his way. But Kikyo held his heart. He was in love with Kikyo, and that would never change.

Kagome forged on. "And then there's... you and me," she said, avoiding his gaze, awaiting his reaction.

It was not long in coming. "Are you saying," he began mildly, "that this Sesshoumaru is to... _fall in love _with you?" His tone was so disbelieving, so incredulous, that she felt the tears start again.

"You don't have to be so rude about it!" she snapped. "It's not like I'm thrilled about it, either. Because I'm not. You're horrible... rude and cruel and condescending and-- and marriage to you would be a disaster."

"Marriage?" Sesshoumaru repeated slowly.

"Yeah," she sniffled, wiping her face with the cuffs of her kimono. "We're fated to be married. You're supposed to be my husband, I'm supposed to be your wife. We're supposed to have children together." She turned away again, staring down into the water. There was a small school of little silver fish clustered around one pylon driven into the bed of the river to support the weight of the pavilion, and she watched them with apathy, waiting for what was doubtless to be a violent reaction to that news.

It was not long in coming. "This Sesshoumaru, to love a human? To take her as wife? To give her children? _Hanyou_ children?" She chanced a look at him from the corner of her eye and saw that though his expression was perfectly blank, the stripes on his cheeks had gone jagged. "As you say," he continued tonelessly, "Midoriko is wrong."

"_You_ tell her that," Kagome snapped. "I've tried about a hundred times. She won't listen to me."

"And how," he said testily, "do you propose that I say this to her? She has yet to speak to me, either in the waking world, or the land of dreams."

"Next time I talk to her, I'll tell her to contact you," Kagome said grimly. "Maybe you can knock some sense into her." He nodded determinedly.

They fell into an almost companionable silence then, united by their distaste for this enforced shared destiny of theirs. "Right, well," she began after a while, "I'll just go see what Shippo and Kohaku are up to…"

She took one step, wondering if he'd let her go, then another. When he did nothing, said nothing, she fled at top speed, uncaring if he were amused by her fear and pressing her cold hands to her hot cheeks. It had gone both better and worse than she'd expected; yes, he was furious, and had been harsh, but he hadn't killed her as she'd feared, or even hurt her. Just scared her a bit.

Kagome checked on Kirara. The fire-cat was healing slowly from her grievous wounds, but was able to raise her head from her nest of blankets and give Kagome's hand a feeble lick.

"She's much better," Shippo told her. He looked better, too—the pinched, pained look had receded from his face and with the exception of the white sling still holding his arm close to his body, he looked much like his old self.

"You have Sesshoumaru-sama to thank for that!" Jaken exclaimed loyally. He didn't look thrilled at having to mind not merely one child, but two and Kohaku as well.

Rin laughed. "Yes, and I'm sure they all appreciate his help a lot, Jaken."

"Yes, we do," Kagome said. "We'd have never made it back to Edo alive, on our own." She thought of what she'd have had to face if Sesshoumaru hadn't agreed to take their decimated little group with him. "He can be very… kind, sometimes." It was puzzling, if you compared him to how he behaved toward the majority of the world.

"You take that back!" Jaken squawked, brandishing a ladle at her, but Rin only gazed at her with gentle, understanding eyes. The girl knew better than anyone about Sesshoumaru's secret stores of compassion.

Still, Kagome had to smile. "Sorry, Jaken!" she said. "Sesshoumaru isn't kind, he's merciless and vicious. Bad to the bone."

Not realizing she was poking fun at him, the toad demon nodded in satisfaction. "Do not forget it."

"I wouldn't dare," Kagome murmured, grinning at Shippo, then froze when she sensed youki coming nearer. Sesshoumaru's hearing was acute, but he couldn't have heard her, could he?

His face, when he entered the room, was impassive as always. "Rin, I will hear your lessons now." To her surprise, he turned to Shippo and Kohaku. "You two will participate; if you are to stay here, you will take lessons with Rin. I permit no idle hands or empty minds in my home." He swept from the room, leaving a rather surprised group of people in his wake who swiftly rushed to follow him to the sitting room.

Kagome watched in amazement as Sesshoumaru pelted Rin with questions about history, listened to her recite the poetry she'd written that day, and ran a discerning eye over her calligraphed kanji.

His displeasure at Shippo's lackluster involvement was clear, but he said nothing. When he was satisfied with Rin's learning for the day, he dismissed the children to one last half-hour of play before bed, and then turned to Kagome.

"You have neglected his education."

"I—" She felt ashamed and bowed her head. She could protest that they'd always been too busy to take the time to teach Shippo anything, but it would have been a lie. There was plenty of time while on the trail of a shard to have gone over lessons. They just hadn't. "I guess I have. But I won't, from now on. I promise."

Her response seemed to satisfy him; he nodded. She squirmed a little beneath his speculative gaze, and even more when it turned to a faint smirk. "Bad to the bone?"

_Oh, hell._ "Um."

He shuffled through the pages of Rin's calligraphy, and sliced her a sideways look. "Better than 'kind', I suppose."

Kagome was absolutely baffled as to his almost-pleasant demeanor until she realized what it meant. Now that he knew what was going on with her, he felt he could relax a little. "You believe me, then?" she asked. "About Midoriko?"

He languidly placed the papers on the mat to his left. "You were not lying. About that, at least," he added. "Though you have not told me anything. But yes, I believe you."

Kagome found her breath coming a little easier at that, though she had not realized she'd been having trouble with it. Feeling a little more confident around him now, she ventured, "How long are we going to be here? Until everyone's healed?"

His face was calm, assessing. "The kitsune and fire-cat and vegetable may leave whenever they wish."

"Don't call him that!" Kagome said in defense of Kohaku, anger flaring hot in her chest at the cruelty of the insult. "You don't know what he's been through, what Naraku made him do! It's no wonder he's… like that." Then the other implication of what he'd said sunk in. "They can leave… but what about me?"

Sesshoumaru tilted his head to one side, making his ivory hair cascade over his shoulder. "Your destiny and mine seem to be entwined," he said at length. "And you are a being of great power, though you have little control over it. It is in my best interest to keep you here."

"As your prisoner?" Kagome leapt to her feet, outraged.

"Certainly not as my wife," he replied coolly. "I hereby declare you my vassal, mine to command."

The arrogance of the demon was staggering. Shock and disbelief blossomed in her, leaving her feeling a little dizzy in its wake. "You can't do that!" she retorted. "You can't just say I'm your vassal and have it be so!"

He stood, looming down over her, looking impossibly amused with just the quirk of a pale brow. "Miko, when one is weak and the other is strong, there is little room for debate on the issue. I have said you are mine, and so you are, unless you choose to fight me for your freedom." His eyes gleamed with humour at the thought of her in battle with him. "Such is the way in the youkai world."

A thought, jarring and unwelcome, elbowed its way into Kagome's frazzled consciousness. "Wait a minute," she said. "Youkai only have to declare a person theirs, and if the other person doesn't fight it, that's it? Done deal?" When he nodded, she began to laugh. "If that's all it takes, Sesshoumaru, then I'm afraid you're out of luck."

He frowned. "Explain."

Kagome slowly sank to her knees, her head bowed and shoulders shaking as she laughed. "I've already been claimed."

He scoffed. "Any claim by Inuyasha is forfeit; as a hanyou, his claim is superceded by mine as a full youkai."

Kagome's peals of laughter were slowly evolving into a case of hiccups. "No, no, it's not Inuyasha. It's a full demon. He's already claimed me, and not just as a vassal."

Sesshoumaru was now positively glowering. "As what, then?"

She lifted her face, flushed from laughing so hard, to his and wiped tears of mirth from her cheeks. "As his 'woman', whatever that means. I guess that means I'm already married. And have been for years now." She hiccupped. "Figures… I'm coming up on my seventh anniversary, and I'm still a virgin." That sent her into another gale of laughter.

Sesshoumaru stared down at her a long moment. "You are becoming hysterical," he said. "Stop it this instant."

Chastened, she sobered immediately. "Sorry," she said.

"Who is it, this youkai who has claimed you already?" There was a dangerous edge to his voice that boded ill for the hapless demon who'd dared infringe on what the Lord of the West wanted, and Kagome was suddenly afraid to answer.

"What will happen if I tell you?" she asked.

"I will fight him for you," he replied calmly. "And I will win."

"You'll kill him," she said flatly, cold knowledge of what he would do helping to erase any lingering compulsion for mirth she might have had, and he nodded. "Then I'm not going to tell you."

He seemed to grow a foot as his anger was piqued. "You _will_ tell me," he intoned, sending a shiver up her back.

"I won't," she replied, bravely straightening her shoulders. She was always unsure what to do when it was only herself in danger, but when it came to her friends, there was never any question. "I don't care if you kill me. I won't let you hurt him."

"You love him, then?" he asked carelessly.

"He is my friend." That pretty much said everything.

"You are loyal," Sesshoumaru commented. "It shall serve me well, when you are my vassal."

Kagome felt like ripping out fistfuls of her hair, her frustration was so great. "You are so full of yourself!" she exclaimed.

"It is not arrogance when it is the truth," he countered, one corner of his mouth tilting up, and she realized he was actually enjoying this… whatever it was. Banter? Repartee? She would never have suspected him of having a playful side. It was distinctly unnerving, even though there were a thousand Kagomes within her wagging scolding fingers at her, as if to say, 'we told you so!'

She sighed. "I'm tired," she said. "You make me tired." He only tilted his chin a bit higher into the air, satisfied, and left her to fetch the children in to go to bed.

Once her own head was on the pillow, Kagome allowed herself a few moments of self-pity for her situation before resolving to make the best of it with typical resilience. She was worried about Miroku—his arm had been bleeding so heavily— and about his being with Kagura. It had been a shock to learn the wind-sorceress was now one of Sesshoumaru's servants, and that she was going to actually help them. Usually, she only hindered.

Rolling over, she punched the pillow a few times, trying to make it conform more comfortably to her head. She hoped Sango was alright, too. With Inuyasha like this, there was no telling what had happened to her.

Inuyasha. Kagome wanted to be surprised that he would use Kohaku's shard. If she were being honest, however, she had to admit that from the moment Inuyasha had refused to give her the shard, after removing it from Kohaku's back, she had been afraid it would come to this. He'd wanted to become fully demon for too long, fought too hard, to give up without a fight.

She just never thought he'd be fighting _her_. "I hope you're right, Midoriko," she whispered, and buried her face against the pillow, trying not to cry. "I hope you're right."


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:** Thought I'd let you have this chapter on a Sunday instead of the usual Wednesday, as it's been so long since the last update. Sorry about that.

Huge, massive, slavering thanks to Resmiranda for her betaing talents. And thank you to all the reviewers! I'm thrilled you're enjoying it so much :) Hope you like it, please let me know what you think!

**One Less Star, chapter 9  
**by CinnamonGrrl

At the sound of excited shouting, Ryouta looked up from where he was slicing kukicha twigs into tiny, even strips. The only sight that met his eyes out the door of his hut was the old and familiar one: on the right, Hikari's little garden, with its brown-tinged flowers drooping from the recent lack of rain; on the left, Ichiro's small paddock of horses. Beyond them were various houses and shops, stretching only a scant hundred feet before the paddies began. Down the centre was the dusty road that served as the sole thoroughfare through their tiny village.

The horses were shuffling nervously, shying back from the fence and making noises of growing unease. Ryouta placed the knife on the table and stood, the herbs forgotten. Ichiro was very careful to train his horses to be calm and stalwart; whatever was happening must be unusual indeed for them to become this agitated.

He waddled down the steps of his hut and down the road, coughing on the dust that swirled in the sudden wind that had sprung up. Waving his hand before his face, he peered left and right for signs of any of his fellow villagers but there was not another soul to be seen.

Another shout: "Demon! It's a demon!" Ryouta's heart leapt to his throat and he began to run toward the voice, pushing his rotund body as fast as it could go.

"Ryouta, what's happening?" piped a voice at his knee, and he looked down to find the tiny girl, Miyako, jogging beside him. She easily matching his pace, he noted with vexation. Yes, it was time to cut back on the harumaki. _If only they weren't so tasty…_

"Ryouta!" Miyako persisted, this time tugging hard on the tail of his haori. "I heard someone say there was a demon!"

"So did I," he puffed, bolting round another hut. He came up short at the sight that met his eyes.

Floating above one of the paddies at the edge of the village was a huge, floating feather, and sitting on it were two people. One reclined, his face pale and drawn, his houshi's robes stained with blood. The feather's other occupant was a woman, her many richly embroidered kimono slashed raggedly down the front and side.

_She would be very pretty,_ Ryouta thought, if not for the pointed ears and scarlet eyes that bespoke her youkai heritage.

Those scarlet eyes swept over the small assembly before her. "I require the assistance of a healer for my companion," she declared.

"No… Kagura…" the monk said weakly, reaching out to her with an oddly-gloved hand wrapped with prayer beads. "There's no time… we have to keep going."

She ignored him. "Surely there is one with some skill at healing?"

At her words, the little crowd parted to reveal Ryouta at the back, to his great and everlasting dismay. Even Miyako—_the little traitor,_ he thought unkindly-- retreated from him, her eyes round as she watched the youkai step from the feather-boat and walk toward him. He felt sweat break out on his clammy brow and jammed his hands up his sleeves to hide their trembling.

"You, ningen," she said, "you are a healer?" A motion of the closed fan in her hand brought the feather floating toward Ryouta. The man was indeed grievously injured, one of his sleeves slashed from shoulder to wrist. The torn edges of his robes were crusty with a sobering amount of dried blood, and the flesh Ryouta could see through the tears was red and enflamed-looking.

"I am b-but an herbalist, youkai-sama. I do wh-what I can—" Ryouta began, horrified to hear his childhood affliction of stuttering revisit him. "But I know only of d-dosing illnesses, youkai-sama. Injuries such as his are b-beyond me."

She only smiled at him, a slow and terrifying smile that promised carnage if she were to be disobeyed. "You will do what you can in this instance as well, will you not?" she asked, and Ryouta found himself nodding frantically.

"F-follow me, please," he said, as there was nothing else to say, and led the way back to his hut. It was highly unnerving to have the monk floating between them at waist-height. "That is an unusual g-glove on his hand, youkai-sama," he ventured nervously. Never had he seen the like, and how odd that the monk wore only one.

She sliced a look at him from the corner of her eye. "You will not remove it, healer, do you understand? In fact, do not touch that hand of his at all." She turned her gaze forward once more.

"I take no responsibility for the aftermath if you do."

Ryouta felt his heart disengage itself from his throat and plummet down to his stomach. "Yes, youkai-sama," he whispered, and led the way into his hut.

Inside, he bustled around in making a pallet for the monk, and watched with amazement as the demoness motioned with her fan, making the wind currents speed and swirl in the small space. The monk was borne up from the feather and placed with a gentle thump on the pallet, and the feather shrank to a more normal size. She tucked it into the knot of hair at the back of her head in a practiced motion.

"Remove his clothing," she commanded. "I shall avail myself of the women of this place to repair the damage to our attire."

Ryouta strained over his bulging belly to undress the monk, handing the garments to the demoness. She took them and left without a word, filling him with a keen relief. He let out the breath he was not aware he'd been holding and set to work.

Ryouta mixed cold water in a basin with some of the hot water always boiling over the cook-fire and began to bathe the monk of the blood, grime, and sweat that streaked him. It was slow going, but once his body and wound were as clean as Ryouta could possibly make him, the monk seemed to rest easier.

Sitting back on his heels, Ryouta covered all of the monk's body but his left arm with a blanket and studied the wound. A long, jagged tear went right down to the bone in some places. He began to steep some herbs in boiling water and fished out some clean white thread and a curved needle in the shape of a half-moon. These too he soaked in the tea.

Once the tea was cooled he washed the wound with liberal amounts of it, careful to pick out any tiny bits of plant matter than had slipped through the straining, and then began the arduous and unpleasant task of stitching the monk up. It would have to be done in two stages, one row of sewing deep within, halfway to the bone, and one on the outside, on his skin.

He grimaced the first time the needle bit into flesh-- there was little Ryouta hated more than sewing people up. The reluctant and grating slide of metal through muscle, fat and skin made him queasy.

"After this is over," he muttered to himself, "I shall become no more than a gardener."

"When this is over, and he is well, you may become a dung merchant for all I care," the demoness said from the doorway. Her many layers of rich kimono had been traded for a single yukata and simple obi, but her hauteur was undiminished. "But should he die…" She smirked and settled fluidly to her knees by the monk's side. "You will not have much need of plans for the future."

Ryouta gulped and bowed repeatedly. "I will do my b-best, youkai-sama," he gasped.

She nodded coldly. "See that you do."

* * *

The third morning of her stay at Sesshoumaru's home, Kagome was on her way to the bathing chamber to fetch any dirty towels when she heard a faint sound of frustration. Following the sound, she peeked into the room and found Sesshoumaru kneeling before a dressing table and struggling to comb his hair, an arduous task with only one hand. 

He wore just a pair of hakama, leaving his feet and chest bare, and Kagome felt like all the air had been squeezed from her lungs. He was… he was really beautiful, even with just a stump for a left arm. With his hair rumpled from sleep and a grouchy frown on his face, he looked so endearingly similar to so many of the memories stuffed into her head that she found a lump growing in her throat.

"Miko," he muttered, golden eyes meeting hers in the mirror's reflection, "assist me."

She entered the room hesitantly, a little worried it was a trick of some sort, and cautiously looked around. It, like the rest of the chambers of the house, was modestly sized and furnished. The bed was very big in order to accommodate Sesshoumaru's unusual height, and aside from the dressing table—which held nothing but the comb he'd replaced on its surface—there was a single kimono chest and nothing more.

Another memory flitted by, of another Kagome and another Sesshoumaru sharing this bed in their dimension, of making love on it, of sleeping in each other's arms. That Kagome had given birth in their bed, bringing their children into the world in the same place they'd been conceived. That Kagome had looked up at her husband after her exertions and been met with a smile of love and pride.

"Higurashi," purred a voice in her ear, "if you continue to stare at the bed, I might get… certain ideas of why you were actually prowling around my door."

Kagome twitched at his sudden nearness, in surprise and horror and longing, turning so quickly her kimono whipped around in her wake. "What?" she squeaked. "I wasn't—I was—nothing!"

Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed fractionally, telling her he was laughing at her, and he turned back to face the dressing table. "My hair," he said. Picking up the comb, he held it back over his shoulder for her to take.

She stepped up behind him, careful not to tread on the long swath of hair pooling on the floor between them. Its length was nearly to his ankles, and doubtless was the reason behind his struggles to tame it.

"It needs a trim," she murmured, taking the comb. "Will you let me cut it?" At his nod, she scampered away to fetch a pair of shears from the kitchen. By the time she returned, he was sitting back on his heels once more before the dressing table. She had him raise up on his knees and then carefully cut away any length that fell below them, collecting the snipped strands and laying them aside.

"It was so long!" she said conversationally, taking up the comb once more and now having a much easier time passing it through the beautiful tresses. They were a strange hue of white; Sesshoumaru's hair had an almost bluish glint to it, like the cooler tones of platinum compared to his half-brother's warmer pure silver.

All she could think of were all those times the other Sesshoumarus' hair had cascaded over the other Kagomes as he rose over her in bed, falling around them like a silken prison as he kissed her, made love to her, held her. The hair was fine, but heavy and growing densely on his head. She loved the feel of it sliding through her fingers and was quite sorry when she could delay no longer and finally lay the comb down. "All done," she said, trying to infuse her voice with some brightness, but the intimacy of the act had caused a queer thickening of her throat, a tightening of her chest.

Looking up, she found him watching her closely in the mirror's reflection and immediately blushed crimson. _Please_, she prayed anxiously to some unknown god, _please don't let him be able to read minds._

He said nothing for a long moment, just stared at her in the mirror, before nodding. "My thanks," he said at last.

She nodded in return and started backing out of the room, desperate to put some space between them.

"You will attend me likewise each morning," he continued, turning from the mirror to look at her.

Kagome mumbled something that could have been "okay" or perhaps "kill me now", and fled to the bathing chamber for the forgotten towels. Once there, she splashed her cheeks with cool water and decided that the next time she saw Midoriko, she was going to give her a piece of her mind.

Life settled into a pattern over the next few days. Kagome rose, washed and dressed, and went to help Sesshoumaru with his hair. Then she helped Jaken with breakfast. Shippo, Rin, and Kohaku were up and ready by the time the meal was, and when Sesshoumaru joined them in the dining room they all ate together in each other's sociable, if bleary-eyed, company.

After that, she took a few hours to meditate and practice with her miko skills. Manipulating them had never come easy, and she needed to be careful and vigilant if she wanted to maintain any sort of control over them at all. She keenly missed Kaede's advice and influence, and wondered if Sesshoumaru might let her visit the old miko any time soon. She'd give just about anything to see the woman's wise face, or hear her gravelly voice impart some much-needed wisdom right about now.

Jaken had demanded she assist with the cooking and cleaning now that she and her companions had more than doubled the household population in one fell swoop. Kagome's mornings were now occupied mostly with laundry, sometimes with dusting and polishing. There was lots to be dusted and polished, to be sure, but the sheer amount of clothing to be washed was vexing to her, and she began to think of ways to reduce it.

The first obstacle, of course, was Rin. The child owned approximately eight hundred thousand kimono, and tried to wear each one at least once a day. Kagome approached Sesshoumaru for permission to declare that Rin was only able to wear three garments a day.

That almost made him smile. "You may try," he said graciously.

Kagome approached the girl right away. "Listen, Rin," she began, her tone conspiratorial. "You look great in your things! They're beautiful, and I don't blame you for wanting to try them on all the time. But you've got to help me out, here. You keep wrinkling them, or spilling things on them, and I just can't keep up."

Rin looked stricken. "I'm sorry, Kagome! I didn't mean to make extra work for you."

Kagome gave her a quick hug. "Well, you won't anymore, will you?"

"No, I promise," Rin replied, then grinned. "I'll even help." Kagome wondered if she should be worried about that grin, and shooed the girl off to change into some more practical working attire so she could report back to Sesshoumaru.

He looked impressed in spite of himself when she relayed to him how the discussion with Rin had gone. "And how did you accomplish this feat?"

Kagome shrugged. "You just have to know how to deal with teenagers," she said. "It wasn't so long ago that I was one, so I guess I haven't forgotten yet how they hate to be told what to do. If you treat them like equals, approach them on a level basis, they're usually pretty great."

He looked a little confused, as if he were wondering how to even _begin_ pretending that a young human girl was his equal, but inclined his head to her. "I, Sesshoumaru, will remember that. My thanks."

She blinked in surprise. "Er. You're welcome." She was getting better, she realized as she scuttled from the room. Just a few days ago she'd have gaped in astonishment that he'd thanked her. By now it was just a momentary distraction.

_It was a shame,_ she mused. _If he weren't such a stubborn bigot about humans, this could all end up differently._ She still had to work hard to contain her attraction to him, and Midoriko had remained persistently silent, almost as if she knew of the blistering scolding Kagome was going to give her the next time they spoke.

Later that day, Kagome hauled the final basket of laundry out to the huge cauldron of steaming, soapy water that bubbled away over a small fire. Rin was there making good on her promise to help, hair bound away in a kerchief like Kagome's to keep it out of her face, and stirring the boiling laundry with a long wooden spoon.

She was also laughing, watching the fighting lesson Sesshoumaru was giving Shippo. These lessons had commenced with the others.

"You cannot rely on your trickster ways to remain alive," the inuyoukai had intoned. "When they fail—and they will—what is left? Use them to augment, not substitute for, competent battle skills." And he had tossed a small sword to the kitsune.

"But I can't, not yet!" Shippo had protested, awkwardly grabbing for the pommel of the sword—and missing—with his left hand. It clunked to the ground at his feet. "My arm's not healed yet."

"Because no one will ever attack you again, should you only have one arm," Sesshoumaru agreed easily. "All your enemies shall back away and leave you be, and danger shall never again darken your doorstep. When my half-brother took my arm, I was able to retire in peace, and not once have I been called to defend my life with the limb that remains."

Shippo stared, open-mouthed, at the other demon for a long moment, absorbing both the cauterizing sarcasm and sage wisdom in his words. Then he clamped his lips tightly closed, adjusted his grip on the pommel of his sword, and moved into what he thought was an attack posture.

"All right," he said with determination. "Let's go."

Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed in what Kagome was quickly learning to recognize was his version of a smile, and began the lessons. They occurred daily, and everything had gone well until Sesshoumaru began to toss the odd blow or lash of his ki whip at Kohaku.

The first time it had happened, Shippo's cry of alarm had drawn Kagome from the kitchen where she was rolling rice balls with Jaken.

"He almost took Kohaku's head off!" Shippo exclaimed, his face pale, when she ran outside to him.

Kagome, wide-eyed, surveyed Kohaku. The boy seemed none the worse for wear, and indeed didn't seem to have even noticed how close he'd apparently come to death. She turned her gaze to Sesshoumaru. He met her stare calmly, and she turned back to Shippo.

"Kohaku was never in any danger," she told him, ignoring Shippo's gasp of surprise. "If Sesshoumaru wanted him dead, he would be. He's just trying… to wake Kohaku up, I think." She turned to Sesshoumaru for confirmation, and he nodded. Kagome plastered a bright smile on her face. "See? Just trying to help."

Shippo didn't look remotely convinced, but accepted what she told him. Ever since then, Sesshoumaru had been including Kohaku in the training he gave Shippo, as well as the drills he gave the kitsune and Rin each evening after supper.

They even seemed to be working a little. Kagome was positive Kohaku had flinched a little the last time the ki whip had lashed past his face. Wouldn't that be the best present ever for Sango, the next time they saw her? To give her a Kohaku was more aware of his surroundings, and on the way to recovering?

Kagome wasn't terribly surprised at Sesshoumaru's behaviour with the children; her memories of the other Kagomes told her what an involved and concerned father he had been in all those other dimensions. She hadn't really expected him to be different here, even though these children were not his. The thought of it made a rebellious warmth creep through her, and she squashed it fiercely.

_No!_ she thought, dumping the laundry into the cauldron and taking the spoon from Rin to stir furiously, not noticing that she sloshed so much water with her vigor that she put the fire out. _He's horrible, he hates humans, he's disgusted by me, and I'm not going to start down that road. That way lies heartache, and my heart aches enough already._

"What troubles you this time, girl?" Sesshoumaru demanded, suddenly beside her, and she dropped the long spoon into the cauldron as she sprang back with a cry.

"Nothing!" she said, grabbing for the spoon before it was lost beneath the burbling currents of laundry. "And if you call me a liar, I'll…" Her words trailed off as she blushed a little, thinking how embarrassed she'd be if he ever really knew what she was thinking.

"You'll…?" he prompted. In spite of his blank face, she somehow knew was teasing her. Kagome frowned, trying to think of a suitable punishment she could give him that wouldn't result in her demise.

"I'll put Rin's red kimono in with your things and dye them all pink," she said at last, folding her arms across her chest in satisfaction.

"You could try," he replied smoothly, "but they are enspelled, the silk of spider youkai. Any damage you attempted would be instantly restored and repaired."

They stood, glaring at each other, for a long moment.

"They like each other," Rin confided in Shippo, watching from across the courtyard.

"Yes," he agreed uneasily. "It's… frightening."

Sesshoumaru was approaching again, ready to resume the swordplay. The cool expression on his face told Shippo and Rin he'd heard every word of their little conversation, and Rin wasted no time returning to Kagome's side.

Shippo just prepared for an extra-strenuous finish to the lesson, and sighed. _Look on the bright side,_ he told himself. _Sesshoumaru can hear twice as well as Inuyasha, but at least he's not pounding you on the head every two minutes._

* * *

On the fourth day of her stay at Sesshoumaru's home, Kagome meditated yet again. As the days passed and Miroku and Kagura had not returned with Inuyasha and Sango, nor sent word of their progress, she found herself in zazen more to control the grief and worry about her friends than to hone her miko abilities. It was only moderately successful, and she was only too pleased when Rin tapped shyly at the door to her bedroom. 

"Come in!" Kagome said, happy for the distraction until she saw the apprehension on Rin's pretty face. "What's wrong, Rin-chan?"

Rin sat on the bed and stared down at where her fingers were playing with the flap of her kimono. They were, Kagome noted, still a child's hands in spite of Rin's newfound devotion to making herself appear more adult, with more sophisticated hair and clothing: stubby, a little dirty, and with bitten nails. Kagome wondered if she'd remembered that manicure kit the last time she'd left the modern era, and got up to rummage through her backpack.

"Rin?" she prompted over her shoulder. "What's the matter?"

"Last year," Rin began slowly, "I began feeling… unwell." Once she got started, her words sped up until they ran together. "My stomach began hurting, a lot, and thenIbeganbleeding," she concluded rapidly.

Kagome's hand, which had just lit upon the manicure kit, froze as comprehension dawned. "Oh," she said, and turned to face the girl with a smile. ""Not a lot of fun, is it?" she said ruefully. "What did you do?"

Rin smiled in relief when she understood that Kagome would let her talk about it. "I went to Sesshoumaru-sama… I was afraid I was dying." She paused, watching as Kagome and selected a nail file from the kit and began to work her magic on the girl's ragged nail tips. "He told me that all females go through… through cycles, and that human females bleed once a month for the time they are able to have children."

Her wide dark eyes were dismayed. "Is this true, Kagome-san?" she whispered. "Do I have to keep doing this for years and years?"

Kagome looked up from Rin's hands. "Unfortunately, yes," she said. "I try to think of it as Kaede told me—it's being a part of nature's rhythms. And it means that we're women now, and have to be responsible."

"I don't want to be a woman," Rin said miserably. "What if Sesshoumaru makes me leave when I'm a full adult? What if he won't let me stay here anymore?"

Kagome held out the little tray of polish bottles and waited for Rin to choose the colour she liked best. "Why would he do that?" she asked, puzzled.

"Jaken-san told me that ningen children must leave their parents' homes when they are of age," Rin replied. She watched curiously as Kagome stroked on the sparkly pink colour.

_No wonder the poor thing is upset,_ Kagome thought crossly, and made a mental note to yell at Jaken later. "Some do," she said aloud, "but most stay as long as they like, and only leave if they feel like having their own home and their own families."

"So you don't think Sesshoumaru-sama will make me leave when I'm older?" Rin asked, almost pathetically happy.

"I'm pretty sure he'll want to keep you here forever, Rin-chan," Kagome said, then grinned at the other's fierce impromptu hug. "Careful! You'll smudge!"

Rin pulled back immediately, staring anxiously at her nails.

"Blow on them, they'll dry faster," Kagome advised, and smiled again as Rin obeyed. "Do you have any other questions about it?"

"It?" Rin asked, frowning mid-blow until she realized that Kagome meant. "Oh, that. Well, does it always hurt? Do you know of any ways to make it easier to… deal with?"

"The pain depends on the person," Kagome replied, starting to paint her own nails a pearly lavender. "I don't have many cramps, but my poor mom—hers are terrible. They say exercise makes them go away, so the next time you get them, take a walk or go swimming or something, that might help."

Finishing, she began to blow on her nails, speaking between puffs of air. "As for… the other question," she said, "I have… some things I use… but not many. I'll need to… go back home… for more, soon."

She went back to her pack and carefully withdrew a small cardboard box, then briefly instructed Rin on how to use them, all the while hoping Sesshoumaru would let her return home before she needed them herself.

Rin jumped up, hugging Kagome again. "Thank you!" she said fervently, and then dashed from the room, box clutched to her chest like a precious treasure. She went to her room and secreted the box at the back of her most densely-packed drawer.

Once satisfied that even Jaken's finely-honed snooping techniques would be thwarted by the plethora of undergarments and toiletries crammed within, she went back downstairs. Rejoining her comrades under the pavilion, she thus revealed the basis of the dirt on her hands as she picked her way through the grubby pilings supporting the structure overhead. Shippo and Kohaku sat amongst the scraggly weeds, thin slivers of light falling on their faces and shoulders from between the cracks in the planks above.

"You were right!" she exclaimed to Shippo, holding out her hands for his admiration. "She _did_ know what to do!"

The kitsune leant back on his elbows with a casual air of satisfaction after noting her newly polished nails.

"Told you," he said smugly. "Kagome knows just about everything, and she's a girl, too. I had a feeling she'd be able to help you."

"Thank you for not being… strange about it, Shippo-kun," Rin continued, her eyes wide and grateful. "I think some boys might feel… funny, talking about it."

He blushed a little. "Who you think I am, Inuyasha?" he demanded gruffly to hide his embarrassment. "I grew up with Kagome and Sango… you learn things. And besides," he continued, purposefully averting his gaze, "I could tell you weren't feeling well. Friends do what they can, right?"

"Right!" And she hugged him, making him blush harder. "I'm so glad you and Kagome-san and Kohaku-kun have come to stay with us. I hope you stay forever!"

Shippo didn't reply right away. He looked at Kohaku's blank profile, at Rin's happily glowing face, and finally down at the little fish darting around the pilings sunk into the river bank at the water's edge. His fingers toyed with the feathery tips of the weeds surrounding them, and he sighed.

"Forever's a long time, Rin-chan," he said at last. "A lot can happen."

She was quiet a long moment, sensing his sadness. Then, "Kagome-san said swimming will make me feel better! And it's warmer today. Let's go swimming." She was already wriggling out of her two outermost kimono, folding them carefully and placing them on a large, dry stone. "The current's not too strong," she said after peering at the river with a discerning eye.

Shippo lost no time in stripping down to his hakama and tugging off Kohaku's haori. "C'mon, Kohaku," he said cheerfully, and helped the older boy down to the water. They made Kohaku monkey-in-the-middle, and amused themselves with tossing pebbles by him and splashing all over as they scurried to catch the projectiles.

And then his hand came up, almost faster than Shippo's youkai eyes could see, to snatch the pebble from mid-air as it whizzed by his head.

"Did he just—" Shippo asked at the same time Rin said, "Shippo, he—" Both stopped short.

"We have to tell Kagome," he said, and she nodded.

They raced up the slope toward the house, both wanting to be the one to impart the news. Shippo, with his fox paws, had a distinct advantage over Rin in speed so she settled for screeching joyfully at the top of her lungs.

"Kagome-CHAN!" she hollered from outside just as Shippo burst into the kitchen.

Kagome whipped around from where she stood, shelling peas and trading jibes with Jaken. "What? What's wrong?" Her arm tightened around the wooden bowl she held until it almost groaned from the pressure.

"Kohaku moved!" Shippo said as Rin stumbled into the kitchen, panting. "On his own!"

Kagome dropped the handful of peas back in the bowl and brought her hand to her mouth, blinking at Shippo. "Where is he?"

"In the river, where it happened," Rin replied breathlessly, bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement.

"You left him in the river?" Kagome demanded, thrusting the bowl at Jaken and dashing to the door with the children hot on her heels.

"You have dripped all over the floor, you worthless miscreants!" Jaken hollered after them, impotently shaking a tiny green fist. "Who is going to clean this?"

Kohaku still stood hip-deep in the river. Heedless of her clothing, Kagome crashed into the river to pull him to shore, prying free the pebble clutched in his still-upraised hand.

"This is great," she babbled happily. "This is wonderful. Sango's going to be so happy!" She hugged his arm close to her, feeling her sagging spirit lift for the first time in a week. Then Sesshoumaru was there, peeling her away so he could peer into Kohaku's eyes.

"The boy is improving," he said, and turned to Rin and Shippo. "Continue to try and attract his attention." They both nodded. "We eat soon, change to dry clothing. Take him."

Once they were gone, only Kagome and Sesshoumaru were left. Kagome was drenched from head to toe, and stood shivering with arms wrapped around her waist as she stared at the ripples of water as the river tumbled by. With so much going so wrong lately, Kagome had come to view the possibility of a coherent Kohaku as a saving grace.

"Something's finally going right," she whispered, smiling, and peered through her sodden bangs at Sesshoumaru, who had not moved since the departure of the children.

His eyes were fixed on her in a way that made her belly tighten weirdly; following his gaze, she realized he was staring at her chest. She looked down and saw that the position of her arms had framed and pushed her breasts together and up. The chill of the water had caused her nipples to stiffen, and the water itself had rendered her pale blue yukata practically transparent.

A blush of arousal and embarrassment coursed up Kagome's throat to her face. She moved to cover herself with her arms but he was beside her in a flash, his hand brushing hers aside before moving to trace the outline of one nipple with his fingertip.

"Why hide a thing of beauty?" Sesshoumaru murmured, one side of his mouth quirking the slightest bit as Kagome gasped.

She closed her eyes as every drop of blood in her body seemed to concentrate in that tiny part of her body that he touched. She was not at all surprised by his actions; a dozen Kagomes in her head readily offered memories of lovemaking that had centered almost entirely on her breasts. In another era, Sesshoumaru might have been accused of having a bit of a fixation, in fact.

Desire fought with relief for dominance in Kagome's confused mind; she had waited so _long_ for him to touch her, to make real the insubstantial, tantalizing memories of making love with him in other realities. It was so odd to have so much theoretical experience, and yet be a virgin in actuality.

Not just a virgin; completely inexperienced. Inuyasha had never gone further than the very rare chaste kiss, and he'd never let Kouga have enough time alone with her to do more than clasp her hands and stare meaningfully into her eyes. And poor Houjou…he'd never had a chance, not with all those handsome youkai running around five centuries before he'd even been born.

Kagome wasn't ignorant of what happened between two people. She knew what it entailed, had always suspected it could be something intense and powerful. And when she'd received the memories of the other Kagomes, they'd aroused her, certainly. But to know it was real, that he was really there and really doing this, this heady pressure of blood and tense muscles and heat—oh, she hadn't expected it to feel like _this_.

His claw pushed the slightest bit more against her, piercing the fabric separating them to graze lightly against the sensitive flesh, and Kagome jerked against him, her eyes flying open. She dragged her gaze up the graceful length of his throat to his face, almost panting with desire as the pressure on her nipple increased, and found him staring down at her, carefully gauging her reaction.

There was little hint of arousal on his face. Instead, he studied her coolly, making Kagome feel like a bug on a pin, examined and dissected. It was in such stark contrast to the memories she had of his passion-flushed face, of golden eyes half-closed with pleasure, that her stomach twisted in shock. Pain and shame and disappointment crashed through her, and without thinking, she slapped his hand away. The sting of the impact was just another sensation grating over already-raw nerves.

"Don't touch me," she whispered brokenly. "Why do you have to ruin everything?"

He glanced at her hand, then at her face, and quirked his mouth at her again as he took a step backward. "It is my way," he said nonchalantly.

His footsteps were silent in the damp soil of the river's shore; Kagome watched him walk toward the barn with eyes that were almost painfully dry before leaning back against the piling, needing the support of the rough wood against her back.

She lifted her face to the weak late-afternoon sunlight and thought she might give up this great and vaunted soul of hers for another chance, all those years ago: if only she could do it over again, she'd let Buyo run around the well-house without interference, would in fact avoid the well-house as if it were the source of all evil in the world.

Which, sometimes, it really felt as though it were.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **Well, this chapter was ready on Sunday, but since one of you keeps reminding me of the Wednesday update day, I withheld it until today. So everyone, please thank emeralddarkness for the delay. For future reference, and just to make it _perfectly _clear: I do not respond positively to being hounded to update.

Now that that's done with... hi! My friends, it sucks to be you because while this chapter contains about 4 thousand words of smut, I can't post much of it here. The update here at The Pit is edited-- you'll see where.

An unedited version with smut galore is available at my Yahoo group, at mediaminer dot org, A Single Spark (if I can get the entire 8 million words of the story so far uploaded there soonish), and my crazydiamond LJ. All URLs are on my user page, so click on my name above. I try to put character and relationship development in my smut-- it's not just PWP, so if you skip out on the smut, you might not understand their behaviour in later chapters.

Please thank Technoelfie (muse-inspiring) and Resmiranda (betaing) for this chapter, without them it would not exist. Literally. 

**Chapter 10**

Inuyasha noticed immediately when Miroku and Kagura stopped following them. At first, he thought it was because of his superior skill at hiding his tracks.

"When I was a kid," he'd explained to Sango one afternoon as they ate, "after my mom died, there was always one or another of her crackpot relatives who got it into his thick skull to kill the hanyou." He said it flatly, without inflection to indicate how he felt about it. "I learned quick and early that being able to hide was survival."

He grinned at her then, the tips of his fangs peeping from his upper lip. "Even with Kagura's demon-powered nose, they're gonna have a hell of a time finding us."

Sango found herself grinning back until she remembered that she _wanted_ to be found by Miroku and Kagura, _wanted_ to return to Edo, wanted to have their little group put back together. The past few days had been unsettling, to say the least.

After that first day, when Inuyasha had held her and she had cried, things had been steadily and unrelentingly bizarre. Inuyasha was unnervingly willing to divulge all the ugliness of his past, spinning tale after tale of woe until Sango was sure her heart would break on his behalf.

His father had died while Inuyasha was still quite young, and since his human mother had no place in the youkai world, she had returned to her noble family. But the scandal of an illegitimate child, hanyou no less, was not something her parents and siblings could bear, and neither she nor her son had been received gladly.

Inuyasha, ever intelligent, realized that informing his mother of how his cousins mistreated him would only make her sad, and with her health failing, he only wanted to see smiles on her beloved face. "So that's where I learned to hide my emotions," he told Sango. "Letting others know you're hurt, or even happy, just gives them something else to use against you."

Inuyasha and Sango were in physical contact nearly all day and night long. He insisted they sleep in the treetops for greater protection, necessitating her curling in his arms all night lest she tumble to the ground while unconscious, and then she rode on his back all day as they traveled.

At first, it felt exceedingly strange to her. She was actually an affectionate person, but shy about expressing it. She'd only ever felt comfortable giving Kohaku the occasional cuddle. When he was gone, thanks to Naraku's treachery, and she'd joined up with Inuyasha and the others, there'd been no outlet for her besides dear Kirara and those all-too-brief times she'd managed with Kohaku.

Unless one was inclined to count the many, many times Miroku's wandering hand had accosted her, and Sango _wasn't_. There was little than angered her as much as that slight, lecherous touch. There was nothing affectionate in it, nothing personal. It was just a reminder that Miroku viewed her as an object, a convenient tool to getting what he wanted. He could just as easily rub her shoulders, which she would have appreciated, or taken her hand or caressed her cheek—all things that would tell her it was her he wanted to touch her, not just whichever backside was nearby.

But with Inuyasha, it was different. He clung to her for comfort, not for sex. She didn't feel used by him, as she'd been used by Naraku, as Miroku had been trying to do for years. It was often him coming to her for comfort, so there was no fear of rejection she needed to worry about.

And so, her desire for physical contact had lurched its way to the forefront. Overcome with sympathy for his terrible history, she found herself hugging him often, trying to erase the memories through force of will alone. Once that hurdle had been cleared, she had to get past the fact that the touching and holding was with _Inuyasha_.

She had meant it completely when she'd said she loved him. In spite of his gruff and outspoken behaviour, she believed he was a genuinely good person with all her heart. He was loyal and generous (sometimes), passionate and capable of astonishing gentleness and sensitivity (sometimes).

They'd always fought well together, sometimes seeming almost intuitively aligned to each other's thoughts and movements when battling demons, working seamlessly to defeat their foes. Both were warriors, unafraid of death or injury, willing to risk life and limb fighting for and protecting that which mattered to them. She had trusted him with her life countless times, and he had done likewise with her.

Sango was just now finding out exactly how deep the wounds in his soul had gone, and learning that she had far more in common with him than just a warrior's camaraderie. His devastation over Kikyo, over being shot by her and sealed to Goshinboku, had left a hole in his heart. And that hole had only been widened by Kikyo's continued determination to hate him even though it had been proven that it had been Naraku, not Inuyasha, who had struck the blow that ultimately killed her.

But aside from all that, she'd always considered Inuyasha to be Kagome's. It just seemed natural, after all, with her being Kikyo's reincarnation. She had seen their single-minded devotion to each other, time and again, when danger was present. Even when they were arguing, it was as if the rest of the world dropped away and nothing else existed.

And so for Inuyasha to hold her so tenderly when she cried for him was quite a lot to become used to. To feel his breath on her ear, his fingers combing her hair, felt entirely bizarre. Most disturbing of all, however, was the tightening in her chest that spoke of something more than mere friendship,

She'd never much considered herself a sensual, or even a sexual, person. Sure, she was aware of what happened between two people. Being the sole female in a band of demon exterminators had exposed her to some of the more earthy jokes, after all. Her father's friend, Tenshi, had been quite fond of the filthy limerick as an art form, and hadn't Morimoto travelled far and wide to add to his collection of soft-core pornographic sketches, which he then proudly passed around all the other taijiya, Sango included?

Thus, she'd been both flattered and insulted by Miroku's persistent attentions over the years, but ultimately unmoved physically by them. There'd been times she'd fancied herself in love with him, but something had always held her back from acting on the emotion. She'd always wondered what it was, what invisible barrier had prevented her from accepting his overtures.

She now knew what it was, because she'd found it with Inuyasha.

Sango wasn't sure if it were love. Love, to her, was a cerebral thing, something located deep within the brain, something lofty and elevated above mere mundane sensations. No, what she felt for Inuyasha was something infinitely more primal. She had considered herself his sister for years; sister, companion, friend and comrade.

Now that she knew more about his past, however, some maternal instinct had arisen within her breast, some basic urge to enfold him within her and keep him safe, to protect and soothe and comfort him. Quick on the heels of that came a rather alarming amount of desire, yet another need to take him inside, to surround him with all that she was, to watch his handsome face contort with pleasure as his body wracked within hers.

It was all very worrying and alarming. She was sufficiently confused about it, and so terrified of his reaction should she try to do anything that she'd been in a peculiar state of semi-paralysis for a few days.

There was just so very much intimate contact with him, after all-- she clasped her arms around his body when he ran, his lean hips and waist pressing hard between her legs with each stride. At night, she lay across his lap, his arms securely around her and her head against his shoulder, as they slept in a tree. When they ate, they sat side-by-side, arms and legs brushing. And when she held him, when he held her, their bodies were aligned perfectly, pressed together from breast to knees, hearts pounding hard enough to break through the flesh between them.

So she had to keep very still, had to prevent herself from rubbing against him, from reaching into his fire-rat garments to touch his skin, from lifting her face for his kiss. She knew he was aware of her strangely rigid limbs and torso, but he hadn't said anything yet. She wondered if he would. Then she wondered if he'd _need_ to—it was getting harder and harder not to give in to her urges, and if she did, it would make all explanations moot.

"Where are we going, Inuyasha?" she asked one afternoon as she rode on his back. He was darting through the woods at incredible speed, his hair a silver cloak over both of them. She had to speak very close to his ear so he could hear her with all the rushing wind, and if it wasn't entirely by accident when her lips brushed against it, it wasn't completely by design, either.

"We're going to kill Naraku," he replied, and she blinked in surprise. She'd asked him every day since he'd kidnapped her, and every day he'd refused to answer. Until now.

"Why?" she asked him, arms tightening around his neck in an automatic response to the other hanyou's name.

"Because when he's dead and can't get his dirty mitts on the jewel, Kagome won't have any reason to withhold it from me," he answered. He sounded perfectly reasonable, but Sango could feel a tension in him, vibrating through his body.

"Inuyasha, stop for a minute," she said, and climbed down from his back when he halted. "Even if we kill Naraku, that's no guarantee that Kagome will let you have the Shikon. Don't you remember how she said the time wasn't right? That Midoriko is somehow giving her instructions on what's supposed to happen?" She conveniently left out the rest of what Kagome had told her, what seemed like years ago.

She sighed, her head drooping. "I don't think you're meant to get the jewel, Inuyasha," she ventured, trying to reveal as much about his fate as she could without actually coming out and saying it. "I think you were born a hanyou for a specific reason, and that becoming a full demon will defeat that."

His finger under her chin raised her eyes to his. "Well, Midoriko is gonna have to kill me to keep me from trying!" he said vehemently. "I'm no quitter! I've wanted to become fully youkai for almost all of my lifetime, and I'm not gonna give up now!"

He took a step closer, eyes slitted with anger. "Are you with me, Sango, or against me? Because that's what it's come down to. Either you're helping me, or I kill you for getting in my way."

Sango closed her eyes. It was easier to control the wild dance her stomach had begun at his proximity that way. "I'm with you, Inuyasha," she whispered, because there was nothing else she could say.

He grunted and turned away from her. She sighed and climbed back onto him, dropping her head to his shoulder and thinking so hard she gave herself a headache. She wasn't opposed to killing Naraku, not at all, but she was relatively sure that it couldn't be done by only Inuyasha and herself, especially lacking Hiraikotsu as she was.

It was best to humour him, she decided. Somewhere during the course of their quest for Naraku, she might be able to change Inuyasha's mind. Maybe she could convince him that he didn't really need the Shikon no Tama after all, that he was perfectly fine just as he was. Perhaps she could even get the shard out of his neck—she was positive he'd revert to his old self once it was no longer in him.

But a tiny part of her _liked_ him this way—open, holding nothing back. She brutally choked back the sentiment and held onto him tighter, feeling the wind whip by them and watching the ground fly by under Inuyasha's feet.

* * *

Jaken was not stupid, no matter what Rin said. He had not only noticed the tension between his master and the miko, but understood the nature of it. It had nothing to do with struggling for power, with pride and insult, with freedom and captivity, and everything to do with sex. 

No surprise, there. It had been a long time, after all, since his master had taken a lover, and with a receptive female in close proximity for the past week—ningen notwithstanding—it was to be expected.

And she _was_ receptive; even Jaken's less-perceptive nose had picked out the scent of feminine arousal at various times. That these times matched when Sesshoumaru was close to her was not at all coincidental, he felt.

Jaken did not wonder why she would transfer her affections from Inuyasha to his infinitely superior half-brother; any fool could see that it was a definite step up. Part of him was slightly horrified that his master would consider taking a human for lover, but another part recognized her immense power and, if he were to be honest, personal appeal.

She was lovely, even drawn and worried as she continued to be for the worthless hanyou and her human companions. The shadows under her eyes were a delicate shade of lavender and against the pallor of her skin made her look appealingly fragile.

He was not the only one who noticed. Sesshoumaru was currently fixing her with an unwavering golden gaze, and the set to his jaw told Jaken that he was going to do or say something to her as soon as privacy was theirs.

Jaken took his master's place-setting from the table, stacking it with his own, and admonished the children to hie themselves off to bed, for he was fairly certain there would be no lessons tonight. He paused, hand in mid-pull of the shoji screen closing the room from the rest of the house, to watch the scene unfold before him. The miko sat, hands fidgeting nervously, as Sesshoumaru studied her, an almost clinical coolness to his examination.

Jaken closed the shoji firmly and made his way to the kitchen. Dragging a stool to the basin, he began washing dishes and hoped that the children's bedrooms upstairs were sufficiently far from the dining room and Sesshoumaru's chamber beside it to muffle any noises that might be subsequent.

Sesshoumaru sat comfortably, hand cupping his bent knee, and simply regarded her. She was fascinating to watch, he found; it seemed impossible for her to be still for any length of time. Always, her hands were in motion, fluttering like the wings of a white bird, or the expression of her face would shift from one emotion to another. It was impossible for her to disseminate; no sooner would one thought or feeling enter her head than it was displayed on her features for the world to see.

And he could tell that she was uneasy, yet hopeful in a way that he found almost amusing. She wanted him, that much was painfully clear, yet she seemed to feel her passion was doomed not to be reciprocated.

Was it because she was human? Sesshoumaru had not wasted any thought on the issue. He was not one to doubt his instincts, and on the rare occasions that he had impulses of the visceral rather than intellectual variety, indulging them had not led him astray, either. Reviving Rin was a case in point.

He wondered how responsive this Kagome might be to him. Already, he was intrigued by her reaction to him by the river, several days earlier, and that had been the merest caress of claw on breast. What might she do under the full onslaught of his attentions? How far would she allow him to go?

"Miko," he said, deliberately lowering the pitch of his voice so it was more a rumble than mere speech. She twitched at the sound of it, gasping a little, and turned to face him.

"Yes?" she replied, but her eyes did not meet his; instead, they seemed locked onto his chin, or perhaps his left ear.

"You have been avoiding me." He paused for effect. "Why is this?"

"Avoiding?" Her laugh was high-pitched and nervous, a sure sign that a lie was to follow. "I haven't been avoiding you, exactly. It's just that I know you're busy and I don't want—"

Her voice trailed off as he took her fidgeting hand in his, stilling its movements with the clasp of his fingers.

"Such frenetic movement," Sesshoumaru murmured, and turned her hand to brush his lips over the inside of her wrist. The flesh was warm and soft, the pulse beating against his mouth in a rhythm of near-panic that matched the waves of ki pouring from her, and his ears could pick up the faint sound of her heart, pounding in her chest. This would take no effort on his part at all.

He pulled away, slowly rubbing his finger over the spot he had kissed. It felt cool, and a little moist from the one quick touch of his tongue. Kagome was utterly still, putting him in mind of a prey animal when it knows a predator is near, and he found that he didn't like this lack of reaction on her part.

He pulled gently, turning her toward him. This had the interesting result of making the neckline of her kimonos gap, just enough to draw his attention. Sesshoumaru reached out and touched the tip of his finger to the edge of her innermost kimono's lapel, running it down to where the other side overlapped, feeling the difference in texture between skin and cloth before insinuating his hand underneath.

In a single, deft movement he slid his hand out to her shoulder, pushing the kimonos aside in his wake. There was a fleeting impression of _soft, warm_, before he pulled back again, watching her. To his surprise, he felt an answering interest within himself, a hunger sparking to life in his chest. It had been so long since he had indulged.

Her eyes were closed tightly, and there was a line between her brows as if she were in pain, but still she did not move—not toward him, but not away either. Sesshoumaru found himself enjoying this little game, and eager to indulge in more of it.

He dragged the point of a claw down the long line of her neck to the smooth cap of her shoulder; watching her shiver. A thin white line appeared on her skin, then turning pink before vanishing, and he suddenly wanted to trace them with his tongue. Leaning close, he gave a long lick from the curve of her shoulder, along her clavicle and up her throat before following her jaw to her ear.

She tasted of soap and salt, of desire and fear. He liked it, liked that she was not too frightened to be aroused, nor too aroused to be frightened. Her mouth was parted, panting softly, and without thinking he rubbed a fingertip across them, feeling the moist heat of each breath.

Kagome was caught between frenzy and terror as he touched her, licked her. This was what she had wanted for months, ever since the first time she had recalled a Kagome making love with her Sesshoumaru. Afraid he would stop, and afraid he wouldn't, she was awash in sensation and a relief so strong she squinched her eyes shut to keep from crying at the force of it.

Then something touched her mouth and automatically, she parted her lips to let it in, uncaring whether it was his tongue or anything else. It turned out to be his finger, but Kagome took it between her teeth, closing her lips around the tip before sucking, lightly at first and then stronger.

The pad of his finger was calloused and rough on her tongue, making it tingle, and she flicked her tongue under to the sensitive join of claw to finger. Memories of using her mouth on him assailed her, and her eyes flew open in surprise when he made a rough noise in his throat and pulled his finger away, sliding his hand under the heavy fall of her hair to cup the back of her head.

"Miko," he muttered. There was no time for her to study his expression, because then he was kissing her, his lips parting hers for the inward sweep of his tongue. Fiercely, hungrily, he tasted her, explored her, and she realized that his breathing was almost as ragged as hers. His face, when she placed her hands on either side of it, was growing flushed and hot like her own, and she knew that this time, he wasn't just studying her, wasn't just playing with her.

Feeling giddy with a womanly sort of confidence, Kagome rose up on her knees and wound her arms around Sesshoumaru's neck, sliding one hand down the back of his haori. His skin was hot, even a little damp, and her palm slid smoothly over it as she caressed it. Then, recalling something he liked, she curled her fingers and scratched her nails over him, side-to-side.

Gasping, Sesshoumaru tore his mouth from hers to pull back and stare at her with heavy-lidded eyes gone amber-dark with arousal. "Miko," he said again, his voice rougher this time, and his arm clamped around her waist like a vice.

She began pressing desperate little kisses over his face. "Kagome," she corrected, tracing one of his stripes from cheek to ear with her tongue. "My name is Kagome."

Her other hand was busy fighting to untie his hakama, brushing against his erection far too often to be coincidental, and Sesshoumaru fought to organize his thoughts. He hadn't expected this sort of enthusiastic response from her, but he hadn't expected such a deep burning for her within himself, either. But his body had been denied for far too long, it would seem, and now clamoured to have its way.

A sudden, fleeting sense of bewilderment had him circling her wrists with his fingers, trying to pull her free of him, but she—_Kagome_, he corrected himself, a little dazedly—slapped his hand away and finished wrenching his hakama open.

* * *

Here's where I would have put the smut, if ff dot net would let me. Alas.

* * *

He collapsed on her and reveled in the feel of soft, yielding flesh against and around him. He was swept by a tide of... well, one could not rightly call it affection, but certainly he was kindly disposed toward her in the aftermath of so much fulfillment.

"You are well?" he asked, lifting his face from her damp hair to look down at her. "Unhurt?"

Her face was luminous, and the smile she bestowed upon him gave him twin pangs in his chest and somewhat further down. "Yes," she said in a voice hoarse from shouting her gratification. "I'm well." She executed some sort of kittenish little scrunching motion that somehow tucked her even more closely against him. "Really, really well."

He dipped his head toward her again, trailing his mouth over the humid skin of her face. He mapped her face with his lips-- smoothness of flesh, texture of brows, feathering of lashes-- and decided he never wanted to move again. "But I am not crushing you with my weight?" he asked.

Her arms and legs tightened reflexively, as if afraid he would move away. "No," she insisted, a mulish edge to her voice, and he found his lips twitching in amusement.

"Liar," Sesshoumaru accused softly before kissing her. She tasted of satisfaction, tongue mating with his in a sensual, velvety glide, and he took advantage of her momentary distraction to roll them over so she was draped over him.

"Mhn," she moaned into his mouth when her weight pressed him, soft now, more deeply inside.

They lay there many long moments until he remembered that they were, in fact, on the floor of the dining room.

"Would you not be more comfortable in my bed?" he asked, shivering a little in delight as her hands stroked up and down his arms. He tried to work up a little discomfort in having her explore the remainder of his left arm, but discovered he could not. She seemed not at all repelled by the stump, scarcely noting it, so he would not either.

"Okay," she mumbled. "Wherever."

Sesshoumaru disengaged them, ignoring the pang of regret he felt, and helped her to her feet. Her hair was beyond wild, and he couldn't prevent the slight grin that made its way to his lips as he handed her one of her kimono to wear for the brief trip down the hall.

She merely shoved the tangled mass out of her way and pulled the garment on, her eyes never seeming to leave him for more than a few moments. He wondered absently what he had possibly done to inspire such devotion, even as he admitted he was grateful for it, and found himself taking her hand in his as he led her to his chamber.

There would be time for introspection later.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: **I meant to publish this yesterday and then, um, completely forgot. Sorry about that. My thanks to all reviewers, I'm so happy you're enjoying it this much!

So, there's a honkin'-great whack of original characters introduced in this chapter. Please let me know what you think of them: how well have I done in creating and developing them? And there's a footnote. Yes, I've finally reached the stage of pedantism where my fanfiction has footnotes. I'm really very sorry.

**Chapter 11**

Jaken shoved back the shoji door with far more force and noise than necessary. As he had predicted, the human girl shot upright at the sound, looking utterly ravished with her hair in a tangle over her shoulders and the sheet pooling around her waist.

He cackled, pointing at her, until a shoe bounced off his forehead with resounding force and sent him hurtling back to land on his butt, hard.

"Jaken," Sesshoumaru rumbled from where he lay sprawled across the bed, face down—how had he managed such accuracy in that position?—"leave, or I will slay you."

"Again?" the toad-youkai muttered, standing and dusting himself off. "My lord," he continued at a louder volume," Matsuko is here with news from the southern border."

"Bring her," Sesshoumaru directed, and Jaken scurried off after a last gleeful look at Kagome's disarray.

Slowly, he rolled to his back, pulling much of the sheet with him, which meant that it was dragged off Kagome. She eeped and clutched at it, too preoccupied with her imminent nudity to notice the curl of his lips as he pulled just… a little… more.

"You are still feeling shy?" he asked, lowering his leg to the floor and sitting up. "I have seen all you have to offer, miko. There is little point in modesty." To illustrate this, he stood and dropped the sheet into the corner.

Kagome flushed crimson, even as she felt parts of her perk to attention at the sight of him, naked and stretching, before her. "Kagome," she muttered. "My name is Kagome. I'd think, after last night, that you could use it more than once a day."

He ignored her and opened the door to his visitor. "Matsuko," he said by way of greeting, "what news?"

Matsuko dropped to her knees to touch her forehead to the floor, seeming completely unfazed by his lack of clothing. She spared not a glance for Kagome, who shrieked in dismay and scrambled from the bed, reaching frantically for anything she could use to cover up. The closest thing was Sesshoumaru's discarded haori with the red sakura blossoms, and she pulled it on with cold, trembling fingers.

"Forgive my intrusion, my lord, but there is trouble." Matsuko was a bird-youkai, with a plume of bright scarlet feathers on her head instead of hair, darting black eyes, and pale blue skin. She waited a moment, and slowly sat up when met with silence. "A sizeable group of lesser demons has started to plunder the border villages. Several villages have been pillaged and razed, leaving many people and youkai homeless and starving."

Sesshoumaru reached into the kimono cupboard and withdrew a yukata. He slipped it on with surprising grace for one with only a single arm, lips slightly pursed in thought. "I see," he said after a long moment. "And neither you nor Kado have been able to stop this?"

She shook her head, bright feathers fluttering. "We have not, Sesshoumaru-sama," she replied, bowing again before continuing. "Please forgive us, my lord. But they seem to be able to outmaneuver us no matter what we do; mindless beasts they might be, but they must have a crafty leader."

He nodded. "Return at once. I shall join you soon." She bowed deeply yet again, and was gone.

All this bowing had reminded Kagome that Sesshoumaru was a very powerful lord who commanded obeisance from thousands, and suddenly felt a bit funny that she'd just slept with someone who was, in effect, a king.

But there was time enough for her to think about that later. For now… "You're leaving?"

The idea made her feel a little cold, which was stupid because he was Sesshoumaru; he was strong and could fight better than anyone—_except for Inuyasha, _another part of her interjected loyally—but still, no one was undefeatable, were they?

"Let me come with you," she urged, clambering from the bed to stand by him. "I can help."

Her suggestion made him stop in the middle of fastening the tie of the fresh pair of hakama he'd pulled from a drawer. "No," he said, and finished the task before kneeling before his dresser. Plucking the comb from its surface, he held it out to her.

She stepped behind him, taking the comb, and began pulling it through his platinum locks. "Why not?" She was aware of the mulish, faintly grating whine of her tone but couldn't help it. After months of waiting, they'd finally made love—that's how _she_ was thinking of it, in any case—and she was reluctant to be parted from him. "I can help, you know. Inuyasha's wrong when he says I just get in the way. I—"

"No," he interrupted simply, and that was that. Kagome sighed.

"What will you do without me to keep you pretty?" she joked nervously, trying to shake off her dismay at his departure as she combed his hair with trembling hands. "You know, you should let me braid this, it will stay cleaner and keep from getting tangled as you travel—"

He took the comb from her and pulled her around to face him. "What is the source of your disquiet? You cannot fear for my safety."

To her horror, Kagome felt tears threaten _again _and blinked hard to contain them. "Just a little," she sniffled. "I know you'll be fine. I'll just…" She sighed, her humiliation complete, and stared down at her hands. "I'll miss you."

A thousand other Kagomes nodded agreement, and their myriad recollections of times he'd left her to go to war, or even just on a simple errand, filled her mind. Parting from him had never been easy for her, no matter the dimension.

"You shall miss me, you miss Inuyasha and the taijiya and the houshi, you miss your family…" His tone was just one shade off from amused. "Are you never satisfied with what you have? Must you always concentrate on what you do not?" His teasing tone made her raise her head to look at him; she was amazed to see a glint in his eyes, and she realized with shock that he was trying to cheer her up a little.

Impulsively, unable to contain herself, Kagome took a step toward him and slipped her arms around his head, drawing him close to her, cradling him against her chest and bowing her own head over him until her cheek rested on his gleaming hair. She could scarcely believe how much he mattered to her, and how impotent she felt at having to stay behind. What if he needed her for… something? Anything?

She tried to think of something she could do, at his side in a battle, and came up blank. Her fighting skills were laughable compared to his, and even her talent with the first aid kit was unnecessary—he healed almost as fast as he was injured. Kagome sighed, even more depressed now than she'd been before.

Sesshoumaru stiffened in her embrace immediately. In spite of their night of intimacy, he was still not accustomed to physical affection. Sex was one mattermerely two bodies grinding away toward a common goaland there was a selfishness to it, a greed to it, that preserved emotional boundaries. But this, _this_ was treacherous ground. Sesshoumaru felt an insidious warmth, a welcoming of her tenderness and affection, and his hand came up to her arm to thrust her away.

Then she began stroking his back through the soft veil of his hair, and a tremor went through him. His hand tightened on her arm, almost bruising, but he didn't push her away. Sesshoumaru had many questions about how she knew so well how to please him, how just to touch him in the ways he enjoyed and craved, but they would have to wait until he had more time. At that time, he would slowly strip her and take her, then take her again, then force her to answer each and every one to his complete satisfaction.

"Will you come home soon?" she whispered, unaware she'd referred to this place as 'home'.

Now Sesshoumaru did set her back, but gently. "As soon as I have accomplished all I need to do," he told her, his eyes molten with some indefinable emotion. "And you will be here when I do."

"I might not be," Kagome said recklessly, stepping back and wiping at her eyes, thoroughly mortified at her behaviour. "I might take the children—Rin too—and go into hiding. You'd never find us."

He stood easily, gracefully, getting to his feet in a single smooth motion as her arms fell away from him. His hair tumbled over his shoulder, a shining curtain falling to his knees, as he leant down a little to make sure she saw his face, saw how deadly serious he was.

"I would find you," he said quietly.

Terror and elation at that strange expression on his face rippled through Kagome, and she couldn't decide if she were delighted or not when Jaken began howling for her help in the kitchen. She fled, leaving him to finish getting ready by himself, and went to wake the children.

Shippou sleepily trudged after Kagome and Rin, trailing Kohaku behind him with one hand on the boy's belt. "Couldn't you have just told Sesshoumaru 'goodbye' for me?" he asked grumpily.

Kagome opened her mouth to reply, but Rin took his hand from where it was rubbing the sleep from his eyes and curled her own around it, smiling at him. His posture relaxed, became almost sheepish, and Kagome marveled silently (and with not a little envy) at the power the girl had to sooth irritable youkai.

At the gatehouse, Sesshoumaru stoically endured Rin's enthusiastic embrace and exhortations to come back quickly and safely. "Continue with your studies," he told her, "I shall test you upon my return."

To Shippo he said, "Your katas shall be smoother and less hesitant when I come back." Turning to Jaken, he instructed, "Continue as normal, but do not antagonize the humans."

"B-but my lord!" the toad-youkai squawked in protest, but his lord was implacable, as always.

Strangely, he also addressed Kohaku. "You shall speak before I come back," Sesshoumaru decreed, flicking a glance in Kagome's direction that told her this was her responsibility. "I tire of your wounded silence." She absently wondered how she was supposed to work _that_ miracle.

Then he turned to her. "You shall remain here, miko. If you try to leave, I will find you. And I will be… displeased." A shiver of both apprehension and desire ran through her at his low, silken tones and she wondered what, exactly, was wrong with her for finding him so sexy even when he was threatening her life.

He walked a few steps, then halted, turning back to look at her. "Remember, Kagome," he said. "I will _always_ find you."

Then, gathering a cloud of youki, he sailed up into the dimly lit morning sky. Kagome watched, a pang growing in her chest, until he was gone from their sight.

Aware the others were watching her curiously after this enigmatic comment, she blushed and refused to meet any of their eyes. The silence stretched until Jaken cleared his throat noisily.

"Well," he croaked, "that's that. With Sesshoumaru-sama gone, I'm the head of the household. And I say," he continued with a rather evil gleam in his bulbous yellow eyes, "that now is as good a time as any for spring cleaning."

That gleam was immensely worrying to Kagome, but she welcomed it as a distraction from her apprehension and unhappiness.

"But it's not spring anymore!" she protested, following him back to the house. Wisely, the children scampered away with Kohaku trailing in their wake, clearly hoping they'd manage to get out of doing chores of this magnitude.

Jaken fixed her with a gimlet glare and began rummaging through the step-cupboard. "Did you have some appointment that precludes you from scrubbing?" he demanded, and began to toss jars of solvents, rags, sponges, and various other cleaning accoutrements over his shoulders at her. "Something more important to do besides repay Sesshoumaru's unprecedented patience, kindness, and generosity to a lowly and undeserving human?"

Kagome sighed and began picking the cleaning supplies off the floor. "I used to think that being a miko meant I could get out of things like this. Aren't mikos supposed to be important members of society? And actually, you know, respected?"

Jaken slung a fistful of rags over his diminutive shoulder and nodded. "In my youth, I never envisioned my future to be one of servitude and housekeeping." He sighed and hoisted a bucket loaded with jars. "Life as a youkai isn't all it's cracked up to be, either. Demon or ningen, there's always wood to chop and water to carry."

She took another bucket, tucked a mop under her arm, and followed him to the kitchen. "Jaken, are we bonding?" she asked, amused. "This certainly feels like bonding."

He sniffed, his sizeable beak making the sound much louder than it would be with a humanoid nose. "Certainly not," he snapped, and flung a small tin of furniture wax at her head. It bounced off her forehead and landed on the stone floor with a _ping_. "Get to work, ningen."

* * *

If Shippo and Rin thought they would be escaping housework because of Sesshoumaru's absence, they were sorely mistaken. It was only after Kagome had deposited them in the kitchen with buckets of soapy water and scrub brushes that they realized that Kohaku's ability to perform repetitive actions could be used to their benefit. 

Shippo positioned the older boy on his hands and knees and placed the brush in his hand while Rin gleefully upended one of the buckets over the dirty flagstones. Then they took the blanket-padded box in which Kirara was recovering and slunk out the back door to amuse themselves until the task was done. Rin's predilection for picking flowers meshed nicely with Shippo's rather hyperactive inability to sit still for long, and they delighted in running around the back garden until the chime of a bell sounded in the distance.

"That's the bell on the gatehouse," Rin exclaimed. They darted to the corner of the house, peeking round it to see who had arrived.

"Is Sesshoumaru home already?" asked Shippo, squinting from under his unruly bangs.

She shaded her eyes from the bright sunlight. "No, he wouldn't ring the bell," she replied absently.

Distantly, they heard Jaken shouting from upstairs. "Go answer the bell, worthless human child!" he hollered. Rin and Shippo each rolled their eyes and scampered toward the gatehouse.

"That's a lot of people!" Rin commented as they approached, seeing the line stretching from the gate all the way down the road and disappearing around the bend. "Shippo, are you all right?" His usually-animated face had gone quite still, and even she with her duller human senses could tell he was tense.

"These guys could be dangerous," he muttered, unconsciously inching closer to her protectively. "I don't like the look of them."

The group amassed there were youkai, all attired like samurai. Some were quite human-looking, others more monstrous. All wore black armour laced with orange and gold, and Shippo could feel the weight of their stares as they were leveled upon the kitsune and ningen girl.

Rin, however, seemed unaffected by the menace and hostility in their gazes. "Hello!" she greeted them, bowing. "May I ask what business you have with Sesshoumaru-sama, taiyoukai of the West?" She said it very evenly, and Shippo was sure Sesshoumaru had taught her to say it precisely and without deviation.

The youkai warriors parted like two smooth waves, and down the centre strode a single figure. He was tall, well-formed, and in spite of the piercing silver-grey eyes and flaming-red hair that tumbled down to his hips, looked startlingly like Sesshoumaru.

He, too, bore a crescent moon on his brow, though his was bright gold. The four stripes streaking across his cheeks were jet-black. The upper stripe on each cheek was short and straight, but the lower curved down along his jaw line from ear to chin, tapering to a thin point.

"I am Takeshi," he announced, "Lord of the North, and uncle to Sesshoumaru." Shippo felt Rin jump with the same surprise he felt at the similarity in voice the newcomer shared with Sesshoumaru. "I wish to speak with my nephew."

Rin shook herself free of her shock and bowed low once more. "I regret that this is impossible, my lord," she told him, keeping her gaze fixed on the gold-braid-trimmed toes of Takeshi's shoes. "Sesshoumaru-sama is not at home this day."

His lips curved in a wide, beautiful smile. "Where is he?" he asked genially. "Off subduing unruly vassals, I imagine?"

"I do not know, my lord," Rin answered, straightening and shooting Shippo a look of pure disbelief. It was utterly amazing to see someone who looked so similar to Sesshoumaru behave so unlike him. "He did not say when he would come back," she added, turning back to Takeshi.

"Ah," he replied, and stroked a fingertip pensively down the stripe on his jaw. "That cannot be helped then, I suppose." He tilted his head to one side, considering. "No matter. We shall stay until his return. These are… dangerous times; it was irresponsible of my nephew to leave his home unprotected. My soldiers and I will remain."

He gestured to two of his minions; they immediately began shouting orders to the others and before Shippo knew it, he and Rin were being pushed aside as line after line of warriors marched by them through the gatehouse and into the courtyard.

"But…" Rin began, her voice shaky as she turned to Takeshi. "My lord, I am sure we don't have enough food for all these men."

"Youkai," he corrected pleasantly, but for a moment his eyes were like two razors. "They are not… men."

"My apologies," she replied, bowing so low her forehead almost touched her toes. Shippo felt a violent surge of dislike for Takeshi for making Rin debase herself so.

"Do not trouble yourself," the taiyoukai of the North said dismissively, exchanging a glance of amusement with the two lieutenants who flanked him. "We shall hunt and fish. Your food is neither needed nor desired."

Rin bowed a last time. "In that case, my lord," she said with much relief, "will you come into the house?"

He nodded once and strode past them, leading the way. His lieutenants fell in behind him, leaving Rin and Shippo to bring up the rear. She started to speak to him but he shook his head, pointing to one of his own ears to indicate their demonic hearing. She nodded in comprehension, biting her lip worriedly.

Once inside, they heard a thump from the kitchen, and then Kagome's voice was raised in admonishment. "Shippo, Rin, is that you? I can't believe you made Kohaku do your chores! The poor boy's been scrubbing the same square of floor for the past hour."

Kagome stomped out of the kitchen. She was so preoccupied with leading Kohaku behind her and drying her hands on the apron tied around her waist that she remained unaware of their new company until she realized no answer was forthcoming.

"Shippo?" Kagome said, her head coming up, but her next words died on her lips when she saw the youkai standing there. "Oh!"

"This is Sesshoumaru's uncle," Shippo said hurriedly, eyes darting back and forth from one to the other.

"Oh!" Kagome repeated, her hands fluttering up to her hair to comb her bangs off her face. "Hello!" she said brightly, smiling as she bowed to him. "I'm so sorry, Sesshoumaru isn't here right now. He had some… errands to run."

"He's going to stay here until Sesshoumaru comes back," Shippo continued. "Because he thinks we're unprotected."

Kagome blinked. Between her miko abilities, Jaken, Ah-Un, Shippo's burgeoning fighting skills, and the rapidly healing Kirara, she figured they were probably more secure than many places in Sengoku Jidai.

"That's not necessary," she told him, feeling unnerved by the way his pale eyes watched her so intently. "We're perfectly fine here as we are." She turned to where Jaken had begun stumping his way down the stairs. "Isn't that right, Jaken?"

To her surprise, he did not answer, merely stared coldly at the newcomer before jerking his head in what could be loosely termed a bow.

"Nevertheless, I shall stay," Takeshi replied, his tone disturbingly friendly.

He sounded so like Sesshoumaru that Kagome started a little in shock, yet the way he held himselfthe set of his mouth, his stance— all proclaimed him as different from her youkai as night from day. It felt wrong, all of a sudden, to have him here, and she wanted him gone. Words bubbled up within her, words telling him to leave, to get far away from them, to leave them in peace until Sesshoumaru returned.

"Oh," is what she said, however, and bowed to him. "How… kind of you to think of us."

He smiled at her, not at all fooled into thinking she was genuine in her gratitude, and she had to bite back a gasp at how it transformed his face. Was this how Sesshoumaru would look if he were to smile? Relaxed, handsome, happy? "Wow," she muttered against her will.

Fully aware of the effect he'd had on her, his smile widened. "I am called Takeshi," he said, and sketched a bow to her, much to the surprise of all present, especially his lieutenants. "I was not aware my nephew had taken a wife, let alone such a… charming one."

Kagome stared at him, gaping. "I'm… I'm not Sesshoumaru's wife," she said faintly, one hand coming to her throat to hide the blush surging up toward her face.

"And yet you address him with such familiarity?" Takeshi said lazily. "His concubine, then."

Her cheeks felt like they were on fire. "No! Not anything like that, either!" She fervently hoped he couldn't smell the sex she'd had just a few hours before, though part of her was sure he could, and determinedly brushed away the questions that his comment had spurred: _What was she to Sesshoumaru, now?_ "I just have terrible manners, that's all!"

He laughed, showing lots of sharp white teeth. "I see," he said, not fooled in the least. "If you're not sharing his bed, why are you sharing his house?"

"Sesshoumaru-sama need not explain his motives to anyone, not even his esteemed family," croaked Jaken in a strident tone, hopping down the stairs. "You dare to insinuate yourself into his home in his absence!" He thumped the Staff of Heads on the floor for emphasis.

Takeshi laughed again, and this time his lieutenants joined in the joke. "And all becomes clear," he said, sending a glance of pure amusement over them, especially the blankly-staring Kohaku. "If you are still here, toad, I can see that my nephew's pity for the feeble and orphaned has overcome him, and he has turned his ancestral home into a refuge for humans and misfits."

Jaken's little chest swelled with rage, and Shippo opened his mouth to say something that would doubtless get him maimed or worse. Rin prudently clapped her hand over his face and pulled him back until they were tucked into a corner of the room.

"No, Shippo," she whispered in his ear. He could feel her trembling, and knew how dangerous this situation could be. If Takeshi were anything near as touchy as Sesshoumaru, he could decide to just kill them all.

Across the room, Kagome was restraining Jaken in a similar way, having taken his staff from him and holding it far from his reach with her free hand.

"Hahaha," she said unconvincingly to Takeshi. "Jaken's just a little uptight lately. All the soap fumes." She nodded firmly. "Yes. Too much soap. Shippo, take him outside to… to clear his head."

She thrust the tiny, impotently sputtering youkai at Shippo, who followed Rin in fleeing as quickly as possible, then bowed low to Takeshi. "I see," she said, peering out the still-open front door, "that your troops are making themselves at home. Will you stay in the house, or out there with them?"

He stroked down his jaw with one elegantly clawed thumb, drawing her attention to the black stripe there. "In the house, I think," he said after consideration. "Our journey has been long, and I shall relish the softness of a real bed once more." Something in the way he spoke gave Kagome a quiver of unease, but she forced it away.

There had to be a hundred youkai outside, and the three in here with her were all strong and skilled demons. Even with her powerful abilities, she doubted she'd be able to even disable them long enough to gather everyone and make an escape. No, she'd have to do the best she could and keep things civil until Sesshoumaru returned. Which she fervently hoped would be soon.

"Why don't you make yourselves at home while I fix you some tea?" she asked, forcing another smile to her face. "Then I'll ready a room for you—"

"And for my lieutenants," Takeshi interrupted smoothly.

Kagome bit her lip. The house was already bursting at the seams with the addition of herself and the boyswhere to put them? She and Rin could share Sesshoumaru's room, perhaps, and each lieutenant could have their rooms, respectively…

She nodded. "Yes, certainly," she agreed.

She showed them to the dining room and bade them sit, then bowed once more as she left to make tea. Kohaku stood just outside the kitchen door where she'd left him, and she dragged him with her. Inside the kitchen, the children and Jaken were there, the demon stomping around the kitchen and waving his little arms as he ranted.

"He's always doing this!" Jaken exclaimed. "Dropping by without notice, infesting Sesshoumaru's home with his foul minions, destroying the landscape with their destructive ways…" He shook his fist in the direction of the receiving room. "Mark my words! When they are gone, there shall be nothing left but an elderly badger and one stand of bamboo!"

The children giggled, but Kagome couldn't see much humour in the situation. "Jaken, I need tea for them," she said. Turning, she addressed Rin and Shippo. "I want you two to stay out of their way, and keep Kohaku with you. Stay in your rooms as much as possible until they're gone."

Rin, far too well-mannered to protest aloud, settled for pouting; Shippo suffered no such burden. "You're worrying too much," he stated flatly, but Kagome would not be moved. She shooed them upstairs and sat heavily beside Kirara's box.

The fire-cat was healing rapidly; already her wound had closed completely, and it was only her internal injuries left to mend before she would be good as new again. Her soft fur was calming to Kagome as she petted the striped back and thought hard.

"Rin and I will sleep in Sesshoumaru's room," she told Jaken, "so Takeshi's pals can have my room and hers." She waited for his explosion of protest, and it was not long in coming.

"You presume to insinuate yourself even more into Sesshoumaru-sama's bed than you already have! Are you not satisfied with polluting his life as it is?" he ranted. "Filthy lowly ningen blah blabbity blah…" Kagome only sighed and placed her hand over his beak, quieting him.

"Listen, Jaken," she said tiredly. "we have to work together to deal with this until either they leave or Sesshoumaru comes back. I don't want to leave Rin alone at night with all these men—"

"Youkai!" he squawked with great indignation.

"_Youkai_," she amended, "hanging around. What would he do if he came back and one of them had done something to her?"

The silence that fell in the wake of her question was heavy with the knowledge of the havoc Sesshoumaru would wreak in that case. "Exactly. So just help me with this, ok?"

He narrowed his bulbous yellow eyes at her, and then nodded shortly. "Agreed," he said, bustling around to get the tea tray ready, "but this truce ends when they are gone."

Kagome rolled her eyes and took the tray from him, leaving without a word.

* * *

"chop wood, carry water" is a very old and famous Zen saying: "Before enlightenment chop wood and carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood and carry water." It usually means that nirvana doesn't change the basic nature of the universe and our place in it, that we won't be supermen after gaining it. 

In this instance, however, I'm also using it as a statement that species of demon or human is kind of irrelevant after a while—there'll always be chores, no matter what. In other words, Kagome's purpose—healing the rift between youkai and ningen—is moving along quite nicely. Yes, I'm all about teh obscure.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** I was going to wait until Wednesday to update, but it was ready today so I figured "what the hell". I'm so happy youall are enjoying my little story so much! I'm an utter spaz in terms of getting everything JUST RIGHT and it takes me forever to work out the kinks. I appreciate your patience as my OCD reigns supreme. Also, thanks so much for your kind compliments and encouragement in your reviews :) 

This chapter contains smut, which has been removed in the version found here because of Fanfic dot net's issues with blatant sexuality. The unaltered, smut-filled chapter is available everywhere but here: my Yahoo group, MM dot org, ASS (heh) and the crazydiamond LiveJournal, the links to some of which are on my profile page (for MM and ASS, go to those sites and search for my name. Sorry about that, but FF dot net sucks my ass and won't let me update my profile page with those links.

This particular smut is a rare situation of "miss a little and you miss a lot". In this case, you miss seeing two people get freaky in a way that actually furthers the plot and makes up their characterization as the story progresses, so I suggest that if you can bear some oral sex and virginity-taking you should read the unabridged version.

As always, many thanks to Resmiranda for superb betaing and Technoelfie for painstaking discussions about plot and characterization.

**Chapter 12**  
**by CinnamonGrrl**

Upon her return to the receiving room, three pairs of eyes swiveled in her direction and she couldn't stop herself from blushing, even though she wasn't embarrassed. She didn't like being scrutinized so much.

Sesshoumaru studied her like that all the time, but it was just the one person then, and it was _him_. These demons were strangers, and dangerous ones at that. Not that Sesshoumaru were any less dangerous, but at least with him she could pretend she was confident he wouldn't slay her... maybe.

And now she was babbling in her thoughts. Darn it. "I'm sorry for taking so long with the tea," she said, carefully pouring tea into the lovely little cups. "We weren't expecting guests."

Takeshi nodded and reached for his cup. His lieutenants did the same only after he had taken a sip. He gazed over its rim at her, smiling a little. "You make fine tea, girl," he said approvingly, sounding surprised that a human could manage it.

She blushed again. "Um… Jaken made that, actually. I'm not so good at cooking, unless it's instant ramen."

The smile turned to a knowing smirk. "I do not know of 'instant ramen'," he said. "Perhaps you will honour me by making some during my stay here?"

Kagome wondered if she had any cups of it left in her backpack. "If we have any, sure," she agreed. "I'm not positive. Inu—someone," she amended hurriedly, "might have eaten them all, already."

But he had not missed her slip, and narrowed his quicksilver eyes at her. "Inuyasha, you were going to say," he commented, and she nodded miserably. "How is the whelp doing? It has been a long time since I have seen him." There didn't seem to be any malice in his words, just curiosity.

Kagome goggled at him, unable to reconcile his immense resemblance to Sesshoumaru with his easygoing personality. "He's… he's fine," she lied. "Trucking right along, you know how it is."

The corner of his lips lifted a little, and she doubted she'd been able to fool him any better than she had his nephew. "I do," he murmured, replacing his empty cup on the table, "know how it is." She refilled the cup for him, then for his two soldiers.

"This is Yori," he gestured to the one on his left as she poured for him, "and this is Masuyo."

Masuyo had a short, flat nose and fangs so pronounced he couldn't close his mouth entirely; his skin was covered with a sparse, tawny fur and his ears were almost like Inuyasha's, fuzzy and triangular though they were positioned more toward the sides of his head instead of the top. His eyes were completely black, lacking both pupil and iris, and rested with unsettling weight on Kagome as she looked at him.

She was therefore quite relieved to turn her attention to Yori. Yori looked quite human in contrast, tall and thin, almost gangly, with short and spiky orange hair that contrasted sharply with his jet-black skin. The only thing beside his colouring that was odd were the long whiskers that sprouted from his face, three on either side of his nose.

"I've never met tiger-youkai before," she ventured, "and I've met a lot of demons. Do you all keep to the North, then?"

Takeshi nodded. "We are happiest with our own kind."

"It must have been… odd, when your sister married Inutaisho," Kagome said then, warming to the subject. "But I can see now why Sesshoumaru and Inuyasha don't look much alike, aside from their colouring. Sesshoumaru must get his looks from his mother."

His smile grew. She wondered what had him so amused. Then Masuyo grumbled, "We sit and make idle chatter with a human. Why do you not merely slay her, my lord?"

Kagome's brows drew together in a frown, and as usual her vexation got the better of her prudence. "You don't have to be rude!" she said indignantly.

"Indeed," Takeshi agreed, his right arm sweeping out to knock Masuyo in the head so hard the other demon tipped over. "We are but guests here."

Masuyo hauled himself upright and glared viciously at Kagome before turning his gaze submissively to the floor when facing his master.

"My vassal is not known for his polite ways even among our own kind," Takeshi told Kagome. She realized it was his way of saying he was sorry without actually coming out and saying the words, so she nodded. "But he has a point… why has Sesshoumaru not slain you, if you are neither wife _nor_ concubine?"

Kagome felt her pulse speed up until the side of her throat was fluttering from the force of it. His emphasis told her she'd not fooled his sensitive nose, and she made a mental note to bathe thoroughly as soon as possible. Though she'd given herself a quick scrubbing between waking and bidding Sesshoumaru farewell, it clearly hadn't been enough for youkai noses.

As for why else he kept her around… she didn't want to reveal she was a miko, though Takeshi could probably sense her power. And it was, of course, out of the question for her to reveal the truth about Midoriko and Inuyasha and the Shikon and fate and--

"It's just like you said before," she replied with forced cheer. "We've had some bad luck lately, and Sesshoumaru was nice enough to let us stay here until we're able to move on again." It was the most peculiar concept ever, that Sesshoumaru would take pity on a hard luck case and be charitable, but then again, if she thought about it, he _had_ taken in Rin, and what was that Takeshi had said about Jaken?

She'd have to think about it later. Right now, Takeshi and his lieutenants were standing, indicating they were about to leave. Belatedly, she stood as well, smoothing her hands nervously down her kimono.

"I, Takeshi, shall see to my soldiers now, and take my meal with them. But I shall return at nightfall." He stopped at the front entrance, stepping easily into his shoes. "My room will be ready when I wish to retire." It was not a question, or even a suggestion.

"Uh, sure!" Kagome replied, and watched as he stepped into the courtyard, striding with confidence to where his troops had already begun erecting tents. The largest and most luxurious stood head and shoulders over the others in the centre of the arrangement, and by it a cheery cookfire was already crackling away.

She shut the door, relieved they were finally gone, and slowly walked back to the kitchen, lost in thought.

Her stomach was in knots; she didn't know how to behave with Takeshi. He seemed nice enough, but it would just be stupid for her to be fooled into thinking he wouldn't kill her at the drop of a hat. And there was that worrying suspicion, roiling away in her gut. No, she wasn't going to underestimate him at all.

She hated the idea of having his lieutenants in the house, especially with Rin around. She wished they'd never seen the girl; perhaps she could have pretended Rin wasn't even there and hidden her in her room until they left.

Kagome sighed, and trudged off to erase any trace of her activities from the night before with Sesshoumaru from his room. _Oh well_, she thought with a mental shrug. _Too late to do anything about it now._

Dinner was a sober affair for them, and at the first indication that Takeshi and his lieutenants were opening the front door, she shooed Shippo and Kohaku upstairs and made Rin go into Sesshoumaru's bedchamber. She and Rin had cleaned their rooms thoroughly, removing any indication of the females who normally resided there, and she showed Masuyo and Yori up to them while Jaken led Takeshi to the sole guest room downstairs.

"That's Jaken's room," she said nervously, wanting to make a point of letting them know that neither she nor Rin would be in the vicinity while they slept, "And Shippo and Kohaku share that room, there."

"And where do you and the girl stay?" Masuyo inquired, leaning closer to her in the narrow corridor. His fangs, revealed in a hideous leer, gleamed in the light from her little oil lamp but his eyes remained flat, reflecting nothing, and sent a shiver of unease skittering up her back.

"Oh, we've got a nice place to stay, don't you worry about us!" she chirped, trying to sound oblivious and ditzy.

"I wasn't _worried_," he said, inching closer, but Yori shouldered his way between them to enter Rin's room.

"Go to bed, Masuyo," he said, then added dryly, "_alone_."

Grumbling, Masuyo shoved past Kagome to enter her bedroom and slid the door shut with a bang. Kagome blinked up at Yori and opened her mouth to thank him, but he turned and went into Rin's room without a word.

"Oookay," she muttered, and returned downstairs. She only halfheartedly listened to Rin and Shippo's lessons, ignored Kohaku entirely, and shuffled them off to bed as soon as possible. She joined Rin in Sesshoumaru's room as soon as the dishes were done, Jaken had been placated, and Kirara's wound had been checked and determined to be fine.

Kagome washed in the bathroom and tiptoed down the hall toward Sesshoumaru's room, hoping to get there before anyone saw her, but Takeshi popped his head out of the door of his own room just as she stepped a foot inside.

"The girl is already within," he told her, as if she were unaware. "I must say I am surprised that you two share Sesshoumaru's bed together. I had not thought him to be interested in one so young, nor in threesomes."

Kagome was sure she was choking on her tongue; what else could that sensation be? "Glarble," she said indistinctly, then cleared her throat and tried again. "No. No. No, we're not… Rin… Sessh… I… No. We're just staying there because your lieutenants are in our bedrooms."

"Ah," Takeshi said, but he was smiling again and she was sure he didn't believe her.

"Goodnight!" she squeaked and darted inside, shutting the door tightly behind her. She quickly stuck up the ofudas she'd hastily prepared earlier, then made a beeline for the bed. Lying down, she stared up at the ceiling a long moment, head swimming and incredulous at the day's events.

"This feels weird," Rin said from the other side of the bed.

"I know," Kagome replied, sighing. "It really, really does." She was sure she'd be up all night, listening for every suspicious sound, but she'd underestimated how tired stress could make a girl. Before she knew it, she was sleeping, and her dreams were filled with demons and humans and one particularly vexing inu-youkai.

Sango wondered, sometimes, if the shard were affecting her as well; she had trouble thinking of another reasonable explanation for her behaviour of the past week. As the days wore on, she was enjoying Inuyasha's unprecedented displays of emotion and affection to the point of greed.

Allowed to express himself at last, free of his inhibitions and fears, Inuyasha was actually a rather delightful companion. He was certainly as touchy as usual— they'd spent much of their time together arguing after he'd snapped at her over something irrelevant or stupid— but he also seemed to be releasing his grudges more easily, and the first time she'd accepted his overture of forgiveness he'd hugged her so tightly she'd almost smothered.

He would talk to her for hours as they traveled, telling her about his youth and how he learned to fight, about jokes he'd heard somewhere, about practically anything.

Except Kikyo and Kagome; those two, he declared off-limits. "And I don't want to hear about Miroku, either," he'd snarl at her if she happened to mention the monk.

"But why?" she'd asked, baffled. "He's your friend, too."

But Inuyasha had gotten a strange, inscrutable expression on his face. "It's just the two of us," he said finally. "They're not here, so we're not talking about them." And that was that.

Even more odd was how he gloried in being touched, as if he were starving for it—formerly, he'd shy away from most contact except for carrying Kagome on his back. Now, however, Sango found herself in contact with him almost constantly. It turned out he adored having his head stroked, and that enough of it would make him fall asleep. His favourite position to sleep in, when they weren't stuck on a tree branch somewhere, was draped half-across her, his head on her chest and arms around her. Upon waking, he'd bestow upon her the loveliest smile, then rub his face against her breasts and doze for another few minutes before finally getting up.

For each one of these idyllic moments, of course, there were equal numbers of disquieting ones. A particular sticking point between them was the matter of the shards, both the one in Inuyasha's neck and the joined mass of shards he'd stolen from Kagome. Sango learned to simply give up mentioning it.

But one evening, late after taking out another group of youkai left undirected after Naraku's loss of his half of the Shikon, Inuyasha's bloodlust was not sufficiently slaked. He waited until they were on their way once more, Sango on his back, and tossed a look over his shoulder at her that was replete with irritability and dissatisfaction.

"I'm surprised you stopped harping at me about stealing the jewel," he commented, clearly itching for a fight.

"Actually," Sango said in a moment of probably-unwise candor, "I'm glad you have Kagome's half of the Shikon. It's been purified, and I think it's helping to prevent you from going completely over the edge."

Inuyasha immediately stopped short, dumping her off his back and wheeling round to snarl at her. "Would you stop with that, already? I'm tired of your saying how crazy I am because of having this shard in my neck."

Furious at being dropped on the ground, Sango surged to her feet. "And I'm tired of being dragged all over on a fool's mission! We've been at this for a week now, Inuyasha, and we're no closer to finding Naraku than we were when we began!"

"A fool, huh?" he ground out, shoving his face very close to hers. "If I'm a fool, then you're a bigger one for coming with me all these years. I've never made it a secret what I was after."

His eyes were a glowing, bright gold in the hazy afternoon sunlight, and there was high colour in his cheeks from anger and agitation. Sango felt her belly tighten in arousal at the sight of him, his body tense and wary. It made her even more furious, this strong and perverse attraction to him, and before she knew it her mouth was opening to say even more hurtful things.

"You're even more of an idiot than I thought, Inuyasha, if you thought I came with you and Kagome to help you become a full demon," she snapped. "I came with you for my own revenge. I won't rest until Naraku pays for what he's done to my family and the people of my village. It has nothing to do with _you_!" She infused the last word with as much scorn as possible, glaring defiantly up at him

Incensed, he glowered back until he seemed to notice something. First, his eyes narrowed in suspicion; then his nose twitched.

"What is it?" Sango asked, her anger morphing instantly into alertness; had he smelled or seen danger coming? The tension in her muscles shifted, and her hand hooked itself automatically into Hiraikotsu's strap.

Inuyasha didn't answer, seeming distracted; instead, he bent at the waist until his face was a mere inch from Sango's. "What are you doing?" she demanded, tugging on a silvery lock of his bangs to get his attention.

His eyes flicked to hers a moment, and then he began to sniff her, first her throat, and then further down. "It tickles!" she exclaimed, stepping back in an attempt to get away from his snuffling nose, but he matched her retreat by advancing, step for step.

He pressed his face to the side of her breast by her armpit and she sprang away from him, swatting ineffectively at his head. "What are you doing?" she shrieked, alarmed and still cranky from their suddenly interrupted argument.

Inuyasha grabbed her upper arms, holding her still, and went to his knees before her, continuing to sniff down her body. "You're… excited," he mumbled against her belly, nuzzling his face against it.

Terror and longing shot through her, and she redoubled her efforts to be free. "Don't be stupid," Sango gasped. "I'm just worked up because of this fight we're having."

"You're worked up, all right." His nose brushed across her pubis, making her jump in his grasp, and then he grinned up at her, his pupils dilated. "You want me."

"I do not!" she exclaimed, then squeaked a moment later when he buried his nose as deeply between her legs as he could manage.

"You _do_," he insisted, rubbing his face shamelessly against her. "I can smell it." He looked up at her once more, and she gasped to see that his golden irises were just a thin ring around his enormous pupils. "And it smells _good_."

**insert sex scene here**

When he had the strength to move again, he lifted his head and stared down at her, eyes wide with astonishment. He had taken this woman, taken her virginity as she had taken his. Something in his blood called to him, something wild, and it was all he could do to keep from leaping up and howling his ownership. _Sango is mine,_ he thought with triumph. _Mine, mine, mine…_

He was looking at her so _strangely_, almost with a sense of pride. She knew she should feel remorse, or shame, or something other than this glorious, pleasured languor. Guilt, perhaps—guilt for betraying Kagome. _But then,_ she thought rebelliously, _there was never anything official between Inuyasha and her in the first place, and now with Kagome's destined whatever-it-is with Sesshoumaru… _

Then there was Miroku. So many times over the course of the years, she'd expected something from him. Some declaration of interest, of affection, of anything other than the superficial lust indicated by his wandering hands. When it hadn't been forthcoming, neither had she. Any half-realized dreams of love with the monk had faded to bitterness.

But now, with Inuyasha, her affection was returned, even if his ability to do so was artificially induced. He shared himself with her completely, whereas Miroku still had many long years of his life locked away. Miroku used his charm as a mask, she realized, a mask to hide his true self just as Inuyasha had used bluster and gruffness.

For a moment, Sango lamented that it hadn't been Miroku who'd been rendered so open and uninhibited; she'd longed for years to know more of him, to understand him better. But if there were one thing she was learning from all of this, it was that when things were fated to occur there was little point in fighting them. They were going to happen whether you wanted them to or not, and struggling against the tide would only end up in pain and disappointment.

Right now, she was feeling neither. Instead, there was this lazy, satisfied bliss, and it was all due to Inuyasha. Sango tightened the embrace of her arms and legs around him, inhaling the earthy scent of salt and sex. _She_ had given him this moment, she thought with fierce satisfaction, she and no other. Not Kikyo, not Kagome. _Her_.

_Inuyasha is mine,_ she thought ardently. _Mine, mine, mine… _

The next day was a tense one for all the inhabitants of Sesshoumaru's house; the children were restless from being cooped up inside all day and Jaken did not cease his litany of objection to Takeshi's presence for more than ten minutes at a time. By the time dinner was served, Kagome was ready to skip hearing the lessons for the night and go to bed.

It was then, of course, that Takeshi entered the house.

"I shall take supper with you," he announced with a wide, beautiful smile, as if bestowing a considerable gift upon them all.

Kagome was silent, her exhausted brain startled that he would change his mind about eating with them after saying he would not. Thankfully, Rin's manners were better than hers.

"You honour us, Takeshi-sama," the girl piped, bowing low. Her fingers tugged briefly on Kagome's sleeve, and Kagome bowed too, grateful for Rin's intervention. She fetched another place setting and motioned for him to take Sesshoumaru's place at the head of the table.

He seated himself with feline grace and waited for Kagome to serve him, which she did somewhat awkwardly, not being used to it. They ate in a slightly strained silence, with none of the small-talk that had characterized their meals with Sesshoumaru, and she found herself missing the dog-demon fiercely.

When the meal was over, the children removed the dishes and Jaken brought tea. His beak was set angrily, his gait was stiff, and he fairly tossed the tray to the table before stomping out again.

"The toad is secure in his place," Takeshi murmured into his teacup, sliding his gaze to Kagome in complicit humour.

"Sesshoumaru-sama values Jaken as a faithful servant," she replied stiltedly, hoping it didn't sound too stupid.

"My nephew has ever been resourceful in finding worth that others do not see," he commented, voice bland. Kagome nodded, too tired to try and figure out whether the veiled insult was directed at Jaken or Sesshoumaru or both.

The toad-demon entered the room again and stared pointedly at Takeshi. "It is late," he stated. "I would like to clean the tea service and retire."

Takeshi glanced down at the cup dangling from his long, lethally-tipped fingers, smiling into its contents. "And yet this Takeshi is not finished," he said. "Surely the girl is capable of washing some cups, toad? Worry not. These duties shall not be neglected. Hie thee to bed."

Jaken's gaze met Kagome's for a moment, and she was startled to see the question in his bulbous yellow eyes. _Don't leave me here with him,_ she begged silently, wishing telepathy was one of her miko powers.

But it was not, and there was little he could do besides sketch a desultory little bow and leave. Kagome turned slowly, reluctantly, back to Takeshi and tried to plaster a less apprehensive expression on her face.

"Join me," he said, the barest lilt at the end of it making it seem like a request, even though she did not think it really were.

"Sure," Kagome said, uncertainty colouring her voice, and busied herself with the pouring of tea to hide the sudden tremor of her hands. Takeshi's presence seemed to fill the room, making her nerves jangle.

"You are afraid of me," he commented after draining his first cup, setting it down on the table with a slight thump. His eyes were amused, dancing in the light from the oil lamps, and yet cool as glaciers at the same time. "Are you afraid of my nephew, as well?"

Kagome didn't have to lie at all to answer his question. "Of course," she replied, letting out her breath in a rush. "A person would have to be an idiot not to fear Sesshoumaru."

He tilted his head to one side and smiled at her, pointed fangs glinting orange in the light from the oil lamps. "I am not afraid of him," he said after a moment. "Does that make me an idiot?"

_Oh, no!_ she thought. _I walked right into that one…_ "No?" she replied, mystified and scared at the same time. Then her stupid, stupid mouth took over. "Yes. Maybe? I don't know. I've seen a lot of demons, and none of them are as powerful as he is. Not even Naraku when he had almost all the shards was as powerful as Sesshoumaru with none, and just one arm."

His head tilted slowly to the other side then, and his gaze turned from lazy to speculative. Kagome realized what she'd said and clapped both hands over her mouth in open horror.

"Ah." Takeshi breathed the single syllable as if it were the long-sought answer to a secret. "So my suspicions were correct… you _are_ the Shikon's miko."

There was no point in even trying to lie, so Kagome did the next best thing and said nothing, lips stubbornly clamped shut as she folded her arms over her chest and stared mutinously at him.

To her surprise, he burst into laughter. "You have got to be," he said, composing himself after a time, "the most amusing creature I have ever met."

"I'm glad you think so," she replied sourly. She was furious at herself for confirming suspicions she hadn't even realized he'd harbored. There was no telling what trouble that knowledge would stir up.

"Yes, most amusing," he continued, and to her shock reached out to caress her cheek with the back of his fingers. She jerked away, but he hardly seemed to notice. "I am no longer puzzled by Sesshoumaru's odd lenience with you. if the tales of you are true, you are a powerful entity indeed…"

His hand curled around the back of her neck, pulling until she was forced to crawl toward him on hands and knees if she wanted to avoid falling on her face.

There was a certain awful intentness on his features, and Kagome could sense a spike in his youki that boded ill for her. His eyes were heavy-lidded, beautiful lips parted slightly, and his eyes shone with a feral avidness that made dread streak through her, and confusion, too.

It was so _odd_ to see that open, aroused expression on features she was so accustomed to seeing calm and blank. Alarming, too—no matter how Sesshoumaru had terrorized Kagome and her friends over the years, he was no rapist. It was shocking her almost to the point of tears to feel a fear for herself, for her body, correspond to that familiar face.

She forced herself to focus on the differences, instead—the russet brows and curved black lines slashing over his face, the eyes that were cool quicksilver instead of glowing, warm gold. _Not him_, she chanted internally. _It's not him._

Then, when their faces were just a few inches apart, he murmured, "And appealing too, for a human. No, I am not puzzled at all." And he kissed her, his mouth immediately opening hers for the invasion of his tongue.

Eyes wide, Kagome tried to rear back but his hands gripped her arms and hauled her into his lap. Faster than her mind could comprehend, he'd spread her legs around his hips and locked one arm around her waist, holding her immobile for his kiss.

Kagome was _terrified_. Never, ever had she been in such a situation. Blood pounding in her veins, breath coming in gasps, her first impulse was to call for Inuyasha as she had for the past seven years. A tide of anguish flooded her at the thought of him, pushing aside even her panic at the feel of Takeshi's hand cupping her bottom, squeezing sensuously.

Then his other hand closed over her breast and she jolted in alarm, writhing as she tried to slither off his lap. He ended the kiss and leant back from her a little, his fingers rolling and pinching her nipple through her kimono and then smiling in satisfaction when it pushed hard against the fabric.

"So responsive," he said in a low, caressing voice, and switched hands so he could do the same to the other nipple, "but so naïve. Do you not realize what all that wriggling has accomplished?"

She froze, because there against her, hot and thick and hard, was his erection and she knew that if she didn't get away from him soon he was going to take her. And a tiny, horrible part of her mind—the part now filled with real-life experience of exactly how amazing sex could be, the part interested only in feeling good—was wondering if that would be so bad, after all. He tasted good, smelt good, felt good, and looked enough like Sesshoumaru to make her mouth water.

But he _wasn't_ Sesshoumaru, and that was the problem. He was just a pushy jerk from the North who thought she was there for whatever he wanted to use her for.

"Let me go," she ordered, and began to gather her purification powers. "I've let you do whatever you wanted because you're Sesshoumaru's uncle, but if you don't let me go I'll kill you."

"Will you?" Takeshi looked delighted at the prospect. "I beg you, please try."

Kagome struggled harder to be free again. "I mean it! I'm not joking!"

His lips caressed her throat. "No, I didn't imagine you were." His hand burrowed between her legs, rubbing her firmly, and her traitorous pelvis gave one hard push back at him before her terror asserted itself once more and she began to glow.

Everywhere he touched her, his body began to smoke, and with a cry of pain he pushed her away so hard she flew across the room to land against the shoji with a thump, tearing the paper when her elbow went through it.

He stood there, cold fury clear on his face, and stared at his charred hands. Kagome cringed, but when the seconds passed and still he did not leap on her and rip her apart, she opened her eyes to find him watching her with that same crafty look he'd had before.

"You said you would kill me, and yet you did not," he commented, and that damned grin appeared again. "Misplaced mercy, was it?"

"You are so creepy!" Kagome burst out, unable to contain the revulsion he gave her any longer. Her skin felt like it was trying to crawl right off her body.

"Or perhaps it is because my nephew so closely resembles me," Takeshi mused, ignoring her outburst. "I am not averse to your pretending I am him, if you would prefer it."

Kagome gawped at him. "It's not because of mercy or… or anything else," she told him. "I don't like killing anything if I can help it."

"Really?" He seemed baffled by such a sentiment. "Have you felt that way always, or is it a recent development?"

"Oh, I don't believe this," she muttered, hand to her forehead. "I'm not going to let you _study_ me. I'm going to bed."

At his pleased expression, she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "With Rin."

Now he looked positively gleeful.

She despaired, anger and frustration and disgust all jumbled together in her mind in a big, messy tangle. Face burning, blinking back tears, she left the room in a hurry, leaving him there laughing at her.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: **So, it's been a while. Sorry for the delay, I got distracted by Fruits Basket, Bleach, and Fullmetal Alchemist. Hope you like this chapter!

**Chapter 13**

Kagome came awake when she rolled over in bed and her arm, flung out, encountered no other form. Even unconscious, she knew that Rin was supposed to be there, and dragged herself up from dreamland.

Bathroom? she thought groggily, and strained her ears to hear the tread of returning feet. After several minutes and no Rin, a feeling of anxiety made itself known in the pit of her stomach. Aware of Takeshi's acute hearing, she tried to get up and move to the hallway as quietly as possible. The fusuma slid soundlessly on its track, and Kagome crept toward the kitchen on silent feet.

The room was utterly dark, and still. Kirara lay in a box by the smoldering fire and raised her head when Kagome entered. She was just about to ask the fire-cat if she'd seen Rin when she heard a thud from behind the house. Poking her head out the door, she saw Rin leaving the outhouse. Bathroom, she said to herself, relieved, and was about to return to bed when a shadow detached itself from around the corner of the little structure.

The squat, bulky shape pronounced it to be Masuyo, Takeshi's favourite lieutenant. Remembering the tiger-youkai's flat black eyes and leering grin, Kagome found herself charging out toward them, Kirara at her heels.

Masuyo pinned Rin against the rough plank wall with one hand flat against her chest, inside her yukata. Rin struggled against him, beating with her fists at his shoulders and kicking at his legs but she was laughably weak in comparison to his immense demonic strength. His other hand was busily trying to unfasten his hakama and he peered down, muttering under his breath at the stubborn knot.

"Sesshoumaru-sama," Rin wheezed, unable to draw enough breath to call more loudly.

"Get away from her," Kagome commanded, her voice cold from the single most powerful force of anger she'd ever felt. It was one thing for her to be pawed and groped, but quite another for a girl only thirteen years old.

Beside her, Kirara transformed into her larger form and glared through slitted red eyes at the youkai. Over Masuyo's shoulder, Rin met Kagome's gaze and her face lit up with hope and relief.

Masuyo turned quickly, his hakama still only half undone. "Ah," he said, his happy grin revealing a mouthful of knives. "Can't wait until Sesshoumaru comes back, I see?" His grip on Rin was almost negligent, restraining her effortlessly. "Never fear, ningen. There's enough of Masuyo for both of you."

Kagome felt her face contort into an expression of extreme disgust. "I'd wait centuries for Sesshoumaru before I'd have anything to do with you, you… you gross thing," she told him, revulsion churning in her stomach. "Now, let her go or you'll be sorry!"

As far as threats went, it was fairly lame, but Kagome felt determination burn within her. Clearly, however, Masuyo didn't see her as much of a threat. He slid his hand further inside Rin's yukata and gripped her tiny breast in his meaty hand.

"Or what, girl?" he taunted. "Or you'll say it again?"

Kirara sprang at him then, locking her jaws around his throat. With a heave, she jerked Masuyo away from Rin. The two of them fell to the ground in a snarling tangle of thrashing limbs, and Rin scrambled away on her hands and knees, fingers scrabbling on the ground for traction.

But Masuyo was crafty, and a seasoned warrior. He latched his own fangs, in turn, into Kirara's neck and kicked a foot into her still-healing belly. With a hiss of pain, the fire-cat fell back, staggering away and breathing raggedly.

Masuyo lurched to his feet and wiped the blood from his face and throat with a careless paw, his eyes gleaming with malevolence as he advanced upon Kagome. She looked around frantically for some sort of weapon she could use against him, but there was practically nothing between her and the house.

"I was looking forward to a little bit of fresh virgin," he said, licking his fingers clean. "Even though you've been had by Sesshoumaru, I don't imagine that lovely fellow is much capable of pleasing a female." He grinned, displaying gore-stained fangs. "I, Masuyo, will show you how it is done."

Kagome grabbed for a stout twig by her feet. Her fingers closed around it and she straightened just as he reached her. "Let us go, or I'll kill you."

He only laughed at her and yanked her yukata off her shoulder, closing his mouth over the rounded cap of it and sucking hard. That'll leave a bruise, she thought irrelevantly, and began gathering her purification powers, letting them flow into the twig.

Masuyo pulled the other side of her yukata off, baring her to the waist, and looked down at the pale flesh revealed to him in the moonlight.

"No wonder Sesshoumaru has not killed you," he mused. "Perhaps I won't, either." He leered at her, flat eyes glinting dully, like wet black pebbles. "At least not for a while."

Kagome's reply was in the form of a vicious jab with the twig to the side of Masuyo's neck. Even fired by purification, the pink-glowing wood did not pierce him easily, and Kagome had to call on every scrap of strength she possessed to force it in, sliding deep.

With a startled cry, Masuyo released her to clap a hand to his neck, trying to wrench out the offending thing. But the purification worked fast, eating at him, permeating his form with the warm glow of holy light.

Kagome stumbled back, almost tripping over Kirara, and watched him die. His face was frozen in a rictus of pain, and his arms thrashed impotently against a foe he could not defeat. His mouth opened wide in a soundless scream, and then he was just… gone.

She pulled her yukata back over her shoulders, and belted it tighter around her waist as panicked thoughts whirled in her head. What to do, need a plan. Someone would have felt the surge of power, and with all those demonic ears, she was sure that someone had heard a little of the altercation.

She had killed Takeshi's second in command; the Lord of the North was sure to be furious about that. And it was clear that Rin was not safe; Kagome had to get the girl out of there, send her away to where she wouldn't be in danger any longer.

But how? Kirara was injured again, and not able to take the girl's weight. Getting Ah-Un from the stable would only attract attention. But Shippo…

"Rin," she said, "stay here. I'll be right back." Rin, standing frozen by the outhouse, only nodded as Kagome dashed away.

Kagome ran up the steps and fairly flung herself into the little bedroom Shippo shared with Kohaku. "Shippo!" she whispered anxiously, "Shippo, wake up! Right now!"

"What's wrong?" he asked in alarm, pushing himself to sit up and blinking sleep from his eyes.

"Masuyo tried to force himself on Rin," Kagome babbled, her hands busy as she scrabbled together his clothing and shoved it at him. "Get dressed. You have to take Rin away. Go find Sesshoumaru, make him come back."

He struggled into his things and was already following her down the stairs before she'd finished speaking, tying his hakama as he went. "I have no idea where to look for him," he said, his voice low.

"Me neither," said Kagome bleakly, dashing outside to where she'd left Rin. "The important thing is to get her out of here so no one else tries anything."

Rin was huddled against the side of the outhouse, thin shoulders hunched as she wrapped her arms around her waist. She twitched violently at the sound of their approaching footsteps, but relaxed when she saw who it was.

"Shippo's going to take you to find Sesshoumaru," Kagome told her, peering back over her shoulder as she heard a noise from within the house. "Don't wait. Go now."

Shippo knelt and told Rin to stand behind him, with her arms around his neck. In the next moment, he was a huge pink ball and Rin was scrambling to seat herself atop it, clutching at whatever she could gain a handful of, which wasn't much.

Kagome hoped that dawn would hold off long enough for them to get past the mountain and out of sight. That was them safe, at least. With a last, anxious glance at the floating blob rapidly fading into the shadows of the night, she scurried back toward Kirara, scooping the now-small cat into her arms.

She ran back to the house and wondered what the hell she was going to tell Takeshi when he couldn't find Masuyo.

* * *

Sesshoumaru stood on the edge of the cliff and surveyed the carnage below. The last two days had been frustrating for him as he studied the orgy of violence brought by the huge cluster of low-level demons. What was their origin, their purpose? 

It did not help that his thoughts were continually pulled back to his home and its current occupants. Usually it was Rin's face, mournful at his departure, that tended to linger in his mind's eye, silently reproaching him for leaving her, and indeed he missed her as he always did.

But this time… ah, this time. This time there was another pretty face, sad and bereft. There were other dark eyes pleading for his return, other soft little hands reaching for him. Sesshoumaru wondered when, exactly, he had become so susceptible to such things, for he had not been able to stop thinking about Kagome for more than a few minutes at a time since he had left his home.

He had truly hated having to leave her so soon after their first encounter. There were so many other positions to try, after all.

But apart from his resuscitated libido, there was another, more dangerous longing buried deep: he knew now what it was to have a house full of activity and bustle, with the sound of young voices, the energy of children. He knew what it was to feel the soothing presence of a female at his side, and it had awakened within him a need for it to continue.

"I want more!" exclaimed the demon inside, the primitive part uncaring of repercussions or racial distinction. It didn't care that Kagome and Rin were merely human, would age and die within a short century. All it knew was that they pleased it, and it wanted more of them.

But this Sesshoumaru was not ruled by his primitive self. Rather the opposite, in fact; his iron self-control was why he was here instead of at home, in bed, in Kagome. His generals had been with him the entirety of his reign, and he trusted them as he trusted few beings in this world; if they felt his presence were needed, he would be there.

And so he watched, face impassive as always, from his lofty perch. On his left stood Kado, a bull-youkai, with a neck the size of a small tree and fists like boulders. His coarse features belied an agile mind and faithful disposition, however, and Sesshoumaru was satisfied to call him ally.

To his right was Matsuko, the bird-youkai who had come to fetch him. She was far stronger than her slender limbs and willowy frame would suggest, with a startling ingenuity and aptitude for battle tactics. She had served Inutaisho for centuries, and then had come to Sesshoumaru's service upon his father's death. It was she who broke the silence.

"They are far too focused for such a mindless mass."

She was correct, Sesshoumaru could see. These were base, mindless oni. The way they structured their attacks, the way they managed to evade his own forces, how they knew to avoid villages under protection and instead attack those deemed unlikely to be invaded-- all were the hallmarks of higher intelligence, of a capability of tactics.

"Who directs them?" he asked.

There was silence for a moment, and Kado glanced at Matsuko. She looked away, thin lips compressing further, and Kado dropped his gaze.

"I have my suspicions, my lord," Matsuko said at last, "but Kado believes it unseemly to suggest such a perfidy."

Perfidy? "Speak," Sesshoumaru commanded.

"I suspect Takeshi-sama," she said bluntly. "Kado-san, though a fine warrior," here she bowed to her comrade to take the sting out of her words, "is yet unable to see that this game of bait-and-switch, of luring us to one site only to attack another, is a tiger's ploy. I have seen it many times, over the years, ever since your esteemed mother wed Inutaisho-sama, my lord. It is how the Northern lords fight."

Matsuko turned to face Sesshoumaru, bright eyes beady and black in her narrow face. "And the time is nigh for his yearly pestering of you, too, my lord."

"But what could be Takeshi-sama's motive?" demanded Kado, his florid complexion reddening further. "What possible reason could he have for attacking the South when his own holdings lie to the North? He cannot think to surround the West with his possessions, can he? His resources cannot stretch to that extent."

"No," Sesshoumaru answered, eyes latching once more on the battle below as a suspicion unfurled in his mind. "Examine what results have been gained."

Kado exhaled, the thick ridge of his brow crinkling in thought. "Dozens of villages left in ruin, hundreds left homeless…"

"More than that," Sesshoumaru prompted. "What other changes have occurred? What is now here that was absent?"

Comprehension dawned on Matsuko's face. "You, my lord," she said. "You are here now. Instead of being—"

"Home," Kado interrupted, finishing for her as he caught on. "A diversion, my lord?"

Sesshoumaru nodded grimly. "A diversion."

Matsuko sneered, taking to the air. "A diversion that ends now," she hissed, incensed. She'd never liked the tigers of the North, even less now that their treachery was discovered.

A rather awful expression of rage filled Kado's face, making his coarse features even more ominous. "After you, my lord," he said, leaping from the cliff to fall with ponderous grace to the village below once Sesshoumaru was aloft.

The three of them swept down upon the horde of demons, and for a moment there was nothing but a cacophony of death-screams and the spray of black blood amidst flashes of brilliant blue and acid-green. Sesshoumaru took out the lion's share of their foe with a few strategic blasts of Toukijin, leaving Matsuko and Kado to take care of any who managed to escape total destruction.

When it was over, the others rejoined Sesshoumaru at the center of the carnage.

"What now, my lord?" Matsuko asked, absently wiping her bloody claws on her hakama-leg.

"Now," he replied, "you put this land to rights. I return home. When you are done, you will join me there."

They bowed; he ignored them, gathering a cloud of youki beneath him and launching skyward, bound for home.

* * *

Shippo could clearly hear Rin's sniffles as he floated them as swiftly as he could away from the house of the Lord of the West, but he did not dare transform back to comfort her until they were past the first ridge of the mountains and beyond even the far-reaching sight of the tiger-youkai. 

Once dawn lit the countryside, he scanned the area below for a suitable place to land and rest for a while. A sunny little hilltop, at the bottom of which trickled a narrow green brook, seemed perfect. He touched down and transformed, then caught Rin before she could tumble to the ground.

"Shippo, I'm cold," she whispered. He saw the tears in her yukata and felt an enormous surge of frustration that he was still just a boy, small and weak, and unable to protect and avenge his friend. Shucking his haori, he helped her into it when he saw how slowly she was moving her arms.

"I was so scared," she said. "I thought I was going to die again, but this time Sesshoumaru-sama wouldn't be there to bring me back."

"But you didn't," Shippo replied quickly. "Kagome saved you, and now I've got you, and everything is going to be fine."

Rin burrowed into its warmth and curled against him, laying her head against his shoulder as his arm came around her. He sounded so _determined_. "You really believe that, don't you?" she asked.

He looked surprised. "Sure, don't you?"

"Shippo-chan," she said urgently, "think about it. We've just left Kagome-san alone with only Jaken and Ah-Un. Kohaku is still… like that," she said lamely, not knowing how to describe the boy's dysfunction, "and Kirara was hurt again, trying to help me."

"Oh, no," Shippo said in dismay, worried for the neko-youkai, and then the import of Rin's other words sunk in, chasing away any warmth and comfort the early sunlight might have provided and leaving him with a cold, hard stone in his belly. "Oh, no," he groaned again.

"Yes," she whispered, eyes huge and shadowed. "What if they decide to try with her what Masuyo wanted to do to me? Kagome-san is strong but even she can't defeat dozens of youkai warriors and Takeshi-sama. He's almost as strong as Sesshoumaru-sama."

The children stared at each other a long, tense moment, and then Shippo spoke. "We've got to find Sesshoumaru right away."

"But where?" Rin wanted to know, and despair was plain on her face. "We don't even know why he left. He could be anywhere."

Shippo was afraid and anxious, but he swallowed hard and bit the inside of his cheek to keep his fear from showing on his face. He didn't want to add to Rin's distress. "Let's go to Edo," he said at last. "Maybe Kaede will know what to do. I'm pretty sure I know how to get there from here."

Rin nodded and they both jumped to their feet. "Do you want your haori back?" she asked, beginning to unwrap it from her slender frame.

"Nah," he said, though he was cold in just his yukata and hakama. "You keep it." Then he transformed, she hopped on, and they were airborne once again.

It took them all day to get to Edo, and was long past dark when they finally arrived, touching down by Kagome's well. Rin shivered from the cold of flying aloft so scantily clad and near fainting from hunger, and Shippo was exhausted from taking another shape for so many hours. But more than his fatigue, he keenly felt anger at not being able to do more to protect Rin.

"Which way?" Rin asked, sounding just as tired. In the dark, only an experienced eye could pick out the trail through the forest.

Shippo took her hand and started in the direction of Edo. Staring dully at the worn track through the trees, he was barely conscious of anything but the cold, clammy feel of Rin's palm against his.

_If only I were bigger, _he thought furiously, _I could have killed Masuyo, and Takeshi too! All of them, for upsetting Kagome!_

But there was nothing he could do about it. Clenching his jaw, he concentrated on seeing and listening to their surroundings; even this close to the town, there could be danger.

Soon, they were stumbling into Edo, the familiar clusters of shabby, patched dwellings a comforting balm against his raveling nerves. A little of the oppressive worry lifted from him, and he felt a spurt of energy.

"Almost there," he told Rin, and tugged on her hand to hurry her.

Even from the outside, Kaede's home was redolent of medicinal herbs and holy incense. That, too, soothed Shippo. He flashed his companion a smile as he thrust aside the door and, the last of his energy waning, fell inside.

With a speed that was surprising for her age, the old priestess had an arrow nocked on her bowstring and aimed right between Shippo's eyes before they had the time to scramble to their feet.

"Kaede-sama!" he squeaked. "It's just me!"

After a long and tense moment, she lowered the bow. "Shippo," she said slowly, eye scrutinizing them in the dim light, "have ye never learned how foolish it is to startle a sleeping miko?"

"I'm sorry," he began. Then, plaintively, "Do you have any food? And something for Rin to wear, so I can get my haori back? We're both really cold."

Kaede sighed. "Rin, is it?" she asked, beginning to examine her stores for something to feed them as they crept further into the hut. She hoisted the pot of leftover soup back over the banked fire, coaxing it to life again.

Once the flames were crackling merrily away, she asked, "How does Rin come to be with you, Shippo? And where are the others?"

Neither answered, and she turned back to see the two of them curled up in her bed, covers pulled up to their shoulders. Both children lay on their sides facing each other, quite asleep. With the fire going, she could see dark circles under their eyes and the weary downturn of their mouths. The girl, Rin, had scratches on her cheek and throat, and there was a set to Shippo's jaw that spoke of great anxiety.

"What can have happened to you?" Kaede murmured, tucking another blanket around them. The sense of foreboding that had sparked to life within her at their sudden appearance flared greater. "Inuyasha, I hope ye and Kagome and the others are well."

* * *

Shippo lurched awake the next morning with the cry of "Kagome!" on his lips. Sitting up, he stared wildly around Kaede's hut, trying to place where he was. 

"Finally," commented a disgruntled, masculine voice.

"Kaede?" Shippo asked, confused. But the hand that brushed aside the tatami door was not Kaede's, nor were the tall body and beponytailed head.

"Took you long enough, squirt," Kouga said, trademark grin in place. "I've been waiting hours for you to wake up." He stood in the centre of the hut, his size and youki seeming far too big for the little building to contain. He glanced down at Rin and sent a mischievous grin Shippo's way.

"I thought you'd still be too young for that sort of thing," he drawled, "but I'm glad to see you haven't picked up Mutt-Face's way with the ladies."

Shippo didn't know what he meant until he remembered Rin was sleeping beside him, curled up tight against his heat. At that moment, she rolled closer to him and threw her arm around his waist, mumbling, "Shippo? Come back to bed."

Face aflame, Shippo leapt from the pallet, eyes wide. "No! Nonono! It was just sleeping! We were so tired and cold and—"

"Kouga," began Kaede as she entered her home, "leave off teasing Shippo. I fear there are grim tidings, and would not wait longer to hear them."

Chastened, the wolf demon dropped to a crouch beside the fire and accepted the bowl of miso soup Kaede offered. Shippo tucked the blankets round Rin once more—instigating another cheeky grin by Kouga—and gratefully received his own bowl.

He refused to talk until every drop was gone, and then began to stuff rice balls into his mouth at such a rate that Kouga was forced to hold the plate far out of Shippo's reach until he actually began to swallow some.

The worst of his pangs sated, Shippo gulped some scalding tea and sighed.

"It's all a big mess," he began, "and it started when Sesshoumaru brought Kohaku to us." He quickly described everything that had happened in the past month, ending with, "and now we're trying to find Sesshoumaru so he can come home and fix everything."

He sighed and looked over at Kouga. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I came to check on Kagome, since it's been a long time since I've seen her." He cracked his knuckles, handsome face grim. "I think I'm glad I did."

"You think to go to Sesshoumaru's house and help Kagome?" Kaede asked, even though she already knew the answer. Young men, young demons, they were all the same.

He nodded. "And after that, I'm going to find Inuyasha, rip off his arm, and beat him with the wet end," Kouga continued as he stood, looking completely bloodthirsty. "I've known for years that she was too good for him, and here's proof." Then a thought seemed to cheer him. "At least now it's obvious, even to her. There'll be nothing in the way of her becoming my woman, now."

And with a rakish smile, he ducked from the hut and was gone in a cloud of dust.

"You didn't tell him about how Kagome-san and Sesshoumaru-sama like each other, did you?" Rin quietly asked Shippo from her place in Kaede's bed.

"He wouldn't have believed me anyway," Shippo told her, resigned, and handed her a bowl of soup.

Kaede stared at them from the far side of the hut. "There is something between Kagome and Sesshoumaru?" she repeated, making sure her elderly ears were not deceiving her.

"We're pretty sure they're in love with each other," Rin replied with the first happy smile she'd managed in over a day. Then she slurped more soup.

"Rin is sure," Shippo corrected. "I'm just… unnerved by it." He glowered down at his third bowl of soup as if it were responsible for all his current woes. "I think something weird is going on with Miroku and Kagura, too."

Kaede looked faintly queasy. "Ah, Rin needs more clothing, does she not?" she said by way of changing the subject. "I shall see what is available in the village."

When she was gone, Shippo pelted Rin with a rice ball. "Why did you have to tell her about Kagome and Sesshoumaru?" he demanded. "We can't be sure anything's going on. It could just be some… tension."

Rin stared at him as if he were daft. "Shippo," she began slowly, "even **_I_** heard them, the night before he left. I know you could smell what happened. Your nose is almost as good as Sesshoumaru-sama's." Giving him no time to preen over the compliment, she continued, "And Jaken spent an entire day complaining about what he had to wash out of the dining room tatami."

"Fine!" he exclaimed, hands up in an expression of defeat. "Fine. I admit it. Something's going on between them. Between them, between Miroku and Kagura… maybe Jaken and Kirara are having a secret affair, too!"

He flopped backward, resting his head on her legs, and slung his arm over his eyes. So much was changing, confusing him terribly. He wondered how Sango was, if Miroku had saved her from Inuyasha—

That train of thought brought him to a sudden stop. The idea that one of them needed to be protected from another of their group made him feel nearly sick inside. They'd been together for so long, fighting and living, that it was unthinkable that Inuyasha could have been so stupid and weak as to use the tainted shard and cause this whole mess they were in.

It hadn't been that bad, before. Between Inuyasha, Miroku, Sango, Kirara, Kagome, and Shippo's own growing store of skills, they'd been able to cut a swathe through the demon population. Over the years, they'd become a smoothly integrated organism comprised of six beings, and it had begun to look like they actually had a chance in hell of winning against Naraku.

Inuyasha's abilities in particular seemed limitless. He kept pushing, discovering more techniques with Tetsusaiga, strengthening himself mentally and physically. If he'd continued on as he'd been, Shippo had little doubt the hanyou would have become almost as powerful as Sesshoumaru one day

And now, it was all ruined. They were all split up, in danger, perhaps dead. Inuyasha had done the unthinkable, and everything was falling apart.

_Does he want to be a demon that badly?_ Shippo wondered sadly. Does he want to end it all so soon? Because he knew that once Inuyasha was a full demon, he wouldn't matter any more. Kagome wouldn't matter, Miroku and Sango and Kirara wouldn't matter. Nothing but killing would sate the animal Inuyasha became when his demon side took over.

And their little family would be gone.

_It's gone now,_ Shippo supposed, gritting his teeth against the sinking feeling in his belly. It had been gone as soon as Inuyasha jammed the shard into his own neck, commencing a chain of events that would change everything.

"It's all ruined," he whispered, voice muffled by the fabric of his sleeve over his face.

Rin bent over him, putting her arms around him as best she could. "Not everything," she contradicted with a hug. "We're still okay, and as soon as Sesshoumaru-sama comes home, he'll fix everything."

He removed his arm from his face and looked up at her. Her gaze was clear and trusting, completely confident in Sesshoumaru's abilities. That sort of unconditional faith was amazing to him. When he was a kid—a baby, even smaller than he'd been when he'd first met Inuyasha and Kagome—he'd thought his parents were invincible, too. But his mother had died, and then the Thunder Brothers had killed his father, and he hadn't had complete trust in someone since, no matter how much he loved them.

"Has he ever failed you?" Shippo asked.

"Never." She smiled beatifically down at him. "And he never will."

Her surety was contagious. Shippo felt a spark of hope alight within him, and smiled back at her tentatively. She hugged him harder, just one quick squeeze, before releasing him and snagging another rice ball.

"So," she said around her mouthful, munching happily, "what do we do now?"

"I'm your protector until Sesshoumaru gets back," he replied seriously, "so I have to make sure you're safe."

"Oh," she said, brow creasing as she wondered at the implications of that. "And how are you going to do that?"

"I'm going to keep training, like Sesshoumaru was teaching me," Shippo declared with a firm nod. "In fact, now that I've had breakfast, I'm going to get started right now!"

He bounded out of the hut, tail streaming in the breeze he caused. Rin followed at a more relaxed pace, sitting on the steps and watching, calling out the occasional bit of advice to Shippo as he went through his katas.

Kaede returned with fresh clothing for both Rin and Shippo, but didn't call attention to herself, preferring to watch in silence for a while. The young fox-demon was flushed and perspiring from his efforts as the day grew warmer, and the girl watched him with admiration and affection in her eyes.

She held back her sigh, dismay and resignation mingling within her at the evidence of the bond between them. She felt great worry at the tale Shippo had told her, and hoped that all would soon be resolved. She worried most for the two before her; the others were older, more experienced, but it never failed to tug at her heart, the knowledge that innocents were in danger. If she were able, she'd pack them off to some remote cave where she knew they would be safe. 

But what was safe? No place was proof against Naraku's evil, not in all the lands of Nihon. Their best hope for defeating him was Inuyasha, and if he had given in to temptation and allowed himself to be corrupted, then Kaede feared that hope was lost.

_But no,_ she reminded herself. There was still Kagome and Miroku, and Sesshoumaru and Kagura as well if what Shippo said was accurate. Kouga would fight both on Kagome's behalf and for his clan's revenge, and she knew that Kikyou-onee-sama was still at large and determined to bring about Naraku's downfall as well. So really, there was nothing to be worried about.

She stepped forward then, holding out the clothing to the children, and grimly hoped that if she reminded herself often enough, she might eventually come to believe it.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: **So, this time we get another installment of what Miroku and Kagura are up to (refer back to chapter 9 if you don't remember what was going on with them). It's slightly porny, though not enough to go past the R rating, and there's character death in this chapter, too.

**New stuff you might enjoy, **all accessible from my profile (_just click my name on the top left_):

1) Check out my newer one-shots, written for iyflashfic on LJ: _White Ladder_, _Lacuna_, _Say Goodbye_, _A Paper Illusion_, and _Frozen in Amber_.

2) Also, there is a new awards system for the Inuyasha fanfiction community: **The Shikon Awards**! I really hope you'll all join the rest of us in rewarding the best that the IY fandom has to offer. _We're currently looking for both nominations and judges._

3) Also in my profile is a link to all fanart ever created for me by various of you wonderful, brilliant people :) Go look, it's so _pretty_. 

That said, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy this chapter :) Thanks to the lovely and talented **Resmiranda **for her fast-n-dirty beta.

**Chapter 14**

Miroku listened with a sort of baffled horror to the conversation taking place on the steps to the little hut in which he continued to recuperate, but at the same time was helpless to stop it. Kagura sat just outside the entrance, having been shooed outside by Ryouta so the portly man could give Miroku his daily bath. She hadn't seen why she should leave, at first.

"I have seen the houshi unclothed before," she informed the healer with considerable consternation.

"But Miyaka has not," Ryouta replied archly. His terror of the demoness had faded over the past few days when it became clear that Miroku would recover and therefore Kagura would not be slaying him. For that, at least.

And little Miyaka had taken quite a shine to Kagura, to the bafflement of all concerned, and would not leave her side for meals nor sleep. Miroku had been a trifle worried about that until he saw the grumpy affection in which Kagura seemed to hold the child.

"I don't understand why you ningen always seem ashamed of being naked," he heard her say on the other side of the _tatami_ door. She always spoke the same to everyone, be it himself, Ryouta, Miyaka or any of the other villagers: plainly, bluntly, and with a breathtaking lack of discretion.

"Why," Kagura continued, "is it fine for infants and small children to run around in the nude, but not an adult?" Beside Miroku, Ryouta gave the washcloth he held a vicious twist and began scrubbing at his patient's back with perhaps more force than strictly necessary.

There was a pause, and Miroku imagined the look of concentration on Miyaka's face as she pondered this eternal mystery. "I don't know," she said at last. "But it seems silly."

"Exactly," Kagura affirmed, and he just knew she was nodding for punctuation. "Not all nudity is related to sex, after all. Bathing is a perfectly innocent action, but we are exiled from this mean hovel while the houshi has his bath," she added darkly, not raising her voice but it was clear she'd meant Ryouta to hear every word.

And hear he had. His fleshy face turned rather purplish and he threw the cloth into the bowl, sloshing a surge of soapy water onto the floor, then beginning to stand. But Miroku took his wrist in a grip that was still weaker than he'd have liked, shaking his head in warning. Kagura might tolerate Ryouta, but there was no telling her reaction when actively confronted by him.

Sulking, Ryouta knelt once more and took up the cloth, wringing it out before slapping it onto Miroku's chest and rubbing vigorously. He was a great believer in the need to stimulate one's circulation with strenuous scrubbing during bathtime, and Miroku never failed to end up beet-red after each of the healer's not-so-tender ministrations.

Then came the question Miroku had dreaded. "Kagura-sama," Miyaka piped, "what is sex?"

Beside him, Ryouta stiffened, his complexion slowly turning both waxen and florid at the same worrying time. Both he and Miroku went utterly still, frozen with apprehension for what would next follow.

It was not long in coming. "It's when two people want each other," Kagura replied, her tone perfectly normal, as if this were a discussion of no unusual occurrence.

"How does it happen?" Miyaka asked. Ryouta washed Miroku's newly healing arm with such enthusiasm that the monk was positive his flesh was about to fall from the bone.

"Generally, a male will stick his penis into his partner," Kagura replied matter-of-factly. "This can be a female, or another male, but that's more rare. I've also heard of two females who desire each other, but they don't have anything to put into each other, so they have to be more creative."

Miroku was forced to bite his lip to keep from bursting into laughter. Ryouta just looked fit to burst, almost physically swelling with rage.

"Does it hurt?" Miyaka wanted to know.

"I haven't done it in that way, yet," Kagura replied calmly, "but the other things I've done have not hurt at all… just the opposite." Her voice had taken on a dreamy quality that had Miroku reacting physically before he could stop himself. He was relieved to see it, to be honest—it had been a week since his terrible injury had almost claimed his life with its dire infection, and he had had so little interest of anything of a more erotic nature in so long he'd begun to get somewhat worried.

Ryouta, of course, noticed immediately, since he was in the middle of scrubbing Miroku's right leg. "Hentai!" he howled, scrambling away so quickly he fell backwards onto his plump bottom. Hurriedly, Miroku grabbed at the blanket and hauled it over him just in time for Kagura to enter the hut, Miyaka on her heels.

"Is there a problem?" the demoness inquired, her scarlet eyes taking in the scene before her.

"This man is a pe--pervert!" Ryouta cried, pointing at Miroku with a shaky finger. "A lecher!"

"I know," Kagura acknowledged with a nod. "What's your point?"

Ryouta scrambled up and started stomping toward the door. "I cannot b-be expected to tend the personal needs of an _ecchi_," he muttered.

Kagura reached out and grasped the beck of the healer's haori, hefting him effortlessly from the ground. "You'll do what I say, or I will kill you," she said pleasantly.

"You would not do su--such a thing!" the fat man protested, his feet kicking impotently in space.

"And why not?"

Ryouta's gaze cast about for a plausible reason. "Be-because Miyaka is here!" Ryouta gasped, relieved the girl finally had a purpose. "You would not kill me in her presence!"

She only quirked an elegant brow. "Life is filled with death and destruction," was her cool reply. "The child would be well-served by such a lesson." Ryouta went pale.

Miroku sighed and propped himself up on his good elbow. "Kagura, though I appreciate your… fervour… in getting me healed, I must ask you to put him down."

She let Ryouta drop to the floor with a thump and turned to Miroku, studying him a long moment. "And why was he shrieking that you were a pervert, houshi?" she asked, her voice a low purr that had a certain part of his anatomy perking up once more. Her gaze flicked downward, noticing the sudden tenting of the blanket over his midsection, and then flew up to lock with his.

"Ningen," she addressed Ryouta and Miyaka, eyes never leaving Miroku's, "go away."

"B-but… but this is my hut!" the healer protested, wringing his hands. He was no fool; he knew what the sleepy expression on the youkai's face, combined with the blanket-tent, indicated.

"Ningen," Kagura repeated, hands going to her obi and beginning to untie it, "go away."

Ryouta grabbed the reluctant Miyaka and fled. "I am going to have to burn that futon when they depart this village," he grumbled.

"That seems like it would be a waste," Miyaka commented from her position tucked, in the manner of a sack of rice, under his arm. "Why would you do that?"

Ryouta only muttered dire imprecations against demons, monks, and children who really ought to stay in their own homes instead of pestering the honest, hard-working apothecaries of the world.

Inside his hut, the scene was far more convivial. Kagura, naked, had peeled away the concealing blanket, straddled Miroku's lap, and was currently teasing his left earlobe with firm, moist nibbles.

"This past week has been… frustrating," she murmured into his ear.

Miroku stared at the thatched ceiling and wondered what to do. This week had not been enjoyable or easy for him. He was not used to being inactive, the pain and fever he'd been wracked with from his infected wound had been hard to endure, and chief among all the things unsettling him was the growing realization that Kagura had feelings for him that went beyond mere attraction.

Her insistence on getting him healed, for example. A demon who cared nothing for her companion would have sliced his arm off with her claws, cauterized the stump with a torch or some similar thing, and they'd have gone on their way with little, if any, regard to his suffering or survival.

That she had taken over an entire village and subjugated it to their needs in order to have him put back together alarmed him, because it meant that he _mattered_ to her. When he had given in to his urges with her, he had done so with the belief that, since she was youkai, it meant nothing more than a physical release, a satiety of curiosity.

But the first face he had seen, upon waking from his delirium, had been hers, and it had been pinched with worry. Worry for _him_. And relief for him, too, when she had seen his eyes were clear and focused instead of glazed and confused.

It had been unsettling, to say the least, but Miroku kept silent. It was not his way to speak before considering at length, after all. And so he had bided his time, and watched. Watched as she effortlessly bullied Ryouta into tending him, watched as she befriended the motherless Miyaka so she'd have someone to talk to, watched as she coerced the villagers into providing for them.

It likely should have been disturbing to him, all this self-serving manipulation, but how far was it in actuality from all the times he'd pretended there were evil omens that he, as monk, could easily dispel… for a fee. Kagura, at least, was being obvious in what she was doing. Miroku had deceived those of whom he had taken advantage.

Kagura's nibbles had travelled to a ticklish part of his neck, and he found himself giggling rather girlishly as he squirmed out from under her.

"Enough," he gasped, trying to at least try to be decent. "Kagura, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I don't think my arm is recovered enough, even if… other parts of me are. And it would be very disrespectful to our reluctant host were we to indmmmph."

His words were cut off because of the youkai's mouth covering his. Kagura soon stopped however, and smiled knowingly—he'd not fooled her one bit. She pushed him gently to his back, then curled against his side. "When will you be ready to travel, houshi?" she asked, fingertip tracing swirly patters over his bare chest.

Miroku stilled it by trapping it with his own, pressing it flat. "Tomorrow, I think." She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, fingers plucking at a flat nipple, and he began to rue stopping her before. "Perhaps… I was hasty when I said it would be disrespectful—" he began, and felt her smile against him.

"I thought you might think that, eventually," she teased, hand travelling down. "Maybe if we're very quiet…" Her hand reached its destination, curling around and squeezing, and Miroku arched into it, eyes closing.

"We will have to be very careful indeed," he agreed, a trifle breathless as her lips began to follow the same path. "We must not cause a mess on Ryouta's futon—" His words shuddered to a halt when she took him in her mouth.

Kagura released him for a moment, smirking at him up the length of his body. "I promise," she said, "I won't spill a drop."

* * *

Kagome slapped her hand hard against the malfunctioning water pump's handle, and accomplished nothing more than injuring herself. There was nothing for it; she'd have to go to the well in the courtyard for the water they needed. 

She was reluctant; though yesterday Takeshi had seemed to accept her wide-eyed avowal of ignorance as concerned Masuyo's whereabouts, she didn't want to remind him of her presence any more than necessary. He hadn't tried touching her again, but those eyes of his were like cold blades, watching her, slicing her. She had a feeling he was just biding his time until he tried something else.

His soldiers were rowdy and destructive, and just as Jaken had predicted had pretty much decimated the entirety of the little valley the house stood in. There was not an animal left alive that could be eaten, and Kagome was pretty sure she'd spied a few of Takeshi's troops popping beetles and other insects into their mouths, too.

She, Jaken, Kohaku and Kirara were reduced to eating rice and whatever the toad-youkai could scrounge after nightfall, when his tiny body could dart under cover of darkness into the vegetable patch. They'd been making soup out of everything, in hopes of stretching it as far as possible until Sesshoumaru came back.

And now that the pump in the kitchen was broken, there wouldn't even be that unless something was done. Jaken, long the target of malicious pranks by their unesteemed guests, flatly refused to go outside.

"It takes many weeks for youkai to starve to death," he announced, arms crossed over his chest and a most determined expression on his green face. "If you frail humans perish after just a few days without food, that is of no concern to me."

Kagome briefly considered feeding him to Kirara, who as a carnivore was unhappy at having to subsist on weak daikon gruel, but decided against it. The flak from Sesshoumaru once he returned just wasn't worth it.

So she put the handles of two buckets in Kohaku's hands, took two herself, and ventured into the courtyard. He was to the point now of being able to follow a person without being led by the hand, and Kagome was not only glad for another pair of strong arms to haul water but also his company, because the moment she stepped from the house, every voice fell silent.

_Darn, darn, darn, darn…_ Kagome chanted it like a silent litany in her head with each tread, knowing every single youkai there was watching her. Carefully avoiding eye contact with any of them, she began filling the buckets, Kohaku's first. She plunked the last of the four onto the ground and then straightened up, hands going to the small of her back to rub away the little ache at hoisting such a weight before taking up her two once again. Then she went very still at the sound of the hollow _thunk_ right behind her head.

Turning slowly, she was confronted with the sight of a full bucket suspended in mid-air directly at eye-level by Kohaku's outstretched arm. Her first reaction was elation; finally, he'd _done_ something, and all by himself! But then she realized the bucket was vibrating, and poked her head around it to look at the other side.

Buried halfway to its hilt in the side of the bucket was a kunai, the type of dagger used specifically for throwing, and it was still vibrating from the force put into its pitch. Water was trickling from the bucket's newest leak, and Kagome swallowed hard past the sudden lump in her throat as she realized that, if not for Kohaku's quick reflexes, the kunai would have been sunk that deeply into her own skull.

She was torn between joy at his spontaneous recovery and blind terror at how close she'd just come to dying in a painful, bloody, and all-round horrific manner, so she settled for being almost barbarically angry and was not at all surprised to see herself begin to glow a vibrant, almost lurid, pink.

"Who did that?" she demanded, hands on her hips in classic woman-pissed-off mode after making Kohaku lower the bucket to the ground.

Twenty paces away from her, a demon with thick striped fur stepped forward. "I did."

She was just about to give him a piece of her mind when, across the courtyard, another demon stepped forward. "I did."

Then a third. "I did."

And a fourth. "No, it was I."

More and more voices joined the chorus until the courtyard rang with the sound of a hundred youkai taking credit for the attempt on her life, and Kagome dimly felt a sense of panic rising within her. Kohaku might have saved her with the bucket but he still seemed otherwise dazed, and they had no weapons besides. Kirara and Jaken were inside the house, and Ah-Un was in the stables. By the time any of them even knew she was in danger, she'd be dead.

And then Takeshi was striding forward, flaming hair blowing in the breeze and eyes shining. "I threw it," he told her, and she knew it was the truth.

"If it were you, then why did everyone else say it was them?" she asked, and was surprised at the surge of relief she felt. Murder attempts she could easily handle; it was when he was trying to molest her that she had problems dealing.

He shrugged. "Wishful thinking, perhaps? The desire to intimidate? I do not think I would be wrong to say that of our number, I alone did not wish your death until today."

And Kagome knew all too well why. "What changed your mind?"

"I have come to the conclusion that I do not believe your ignorance of Masuyo's disappearance, ningen. The area behind the house reeks with his scent, yours, and the girl's. I also know that she and the kitsune are gone, and have been since yesterday."

He stepped close to her, lowering his face close enough to kiss her. "You will tell me where they are, and what happened to my lieutenant."

There was little to gain from lying about Masuyo now, Kagome figured. "I'd be happy to tell you what happened to Masuyo," she said. "He tried to rape Rin, and then me. I killed him."

Takeshi's troops all burst into laughter at the idea of the mighty Masuyo being brought low by this small human female, but for once, the Lord of the North was not smiling. "Have you proof of this?"

Angrily, she shoved the shoulder of her kimono down to reveal the huge bruise Masuyo had caused. Takeshi ran a slender fingertip over the twin scratches caused by the demon's sharp fangs, caressing the marred skin. "Purified him, did you?"

Kagome nodded defiantly, pushing his hand away and adjusting her clothing once more.

Takeshi sighed. "What did he expect, to try and take a miko against her will?" His soldiers sobered at the reminder that Kagome was a priestess, and all took a step back from her, as if her purification was contagious. "He was always one to think with the stupider of his heads, that one." Takeshi said with resignation. "The blame for his death falls squarely upon himself, then."

She was amazed, quite frankly, at how reasonable he was being about it. "Right! So, now that that's settled, we'll just go back inside—" She spun, grabbed her buckets, and began to walk toward the house but his hand on her arm swung her back around. She dropped the buckets, sloshing her legs with water from the knees down, and glowered up at him.

"Now," Takeshi said gently, his tone at odds with the iron grip he had on her, "you will tell me where the girl and the kitsune are, or I will slaughter you and the others, and burn this place to cinders."

An almost overpowering sense of wrongness filled Kagome, almost as strong as when she'd known she must not join the jewel and give it to Inuyasha. This time, she thought she could actually hear Midoriko's voice saying "no, no, do not."

Frightened by how very important their safety must be for Midoriko to go to such lengths, and also not ever one to be fond of being given ultimatums, Kagome somehow found it within herself to be the one smiling for once. "I guess you'll have to do that, then," she said cheerfully. "I'm not telling."

Takeshi studied her a long moment, silver eyes blank, face expressionless. "I think perhaps your death would be a… significant waste," he murmured, and hauled her into his arms before beginning to give orders to his troops. "Kill the rest, and put the house to the torch." With that, he slung her over his broad shoulder, completely ignoring her frantic struggles, and began to walk away.

Behind him, his soldiers were only too happy to their reign of havoc. Two unsheathed swords and advanced upon Kohaku, still standing dumbly beside the well; he killed one demon by snapping his neck and disabled the other with a broken arm before they could even raise those swords to strike him. But a third removed the kunai from where it was still lodged in the bucket and flung it at him while he was otherwise distracted, and it sank into the centre of his back.

Kagome screamed wordlessly as he sank to his knees. A flicker of awareness passed over his face, and with a sigh, he fell forward into the courtyard's dust. She began to glow pink without even realizing it, and Takeshi gave her a sharp smack on the backside.

"Even should you kill me, you cannot purify all of them," he told her. "And they will not be as… lenient with you as I shall be."

Kagome's blood ran even cold at his words, then colder; the first of the torches was brought forward and she watched, speechless with horror, as Sesshoumaru's ancestral home went up in flames. She corralled her power, stuffed it deep within, perhaps to be used later…

The door of the stable burst open then; with twin roars from his two heads, Ah-Un erupted from it. There was a tiny, stunted figure on his back, and Kirara in battle-form flew right beside him. Ah-Un began flying East, but Kirara circled over the burning house uncertainly, moving quickly to dodge the arrows that began flurrying her way, and Kagome knew the fire-cat was reluctant to leave her.

"Go, Kirara!" she screamed. "Go, go!" Takeshi spanked her again, hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. But Kirara turned and did as bidden, looking back at Kagome even as she strove to catch up with the dragonet and Jaken.

Takeshi strode into the most luxurious of the tents and dumped her off his shoulder onto an equally plush futon. Sprawled back, kimono askew to reveal her legs, hair spread about her, she made a most tempting picture to the demon-lord. He reached out and ran a hand up the inside of her leg, laughing when she squeaked and clamped her knees so tightly shut his hand was trapped between them.

"You look positively debauched," he murmured with satisfaction. "Alas that there is no time to tarry…" He extracted his hand from the death-grip of her knees and lifted a lock of hair from her shoulder. With a flash of claws, it was severed from her head.

"A memento for my nephew," Takeshi said. "Something to remember you by." He tilted his head to the side, grinning boyishly. "And they say I'm unsentimental…"

He busied himself with directions to his troops for breaking down their camp, and Kagome rolled to her side, curling up fetal as she began to cry. Great, soundless sobs of misery— for Sesshoumaru, certainly; the loss of his home would be a devastating blow. The image of the tiny dog frolicking with the red tiger in the _fusuma_ paintings kept popping up in her mind's eye.

But Kohaku—dead a third time, and he'd only just started to come back to life. This was more than just _his_ death; Sango, wherever she was, would surely be devastated at losing her brother yet again. She felt an inundation of longing for her friends, for Sango and Miroku and especially Inuyasha, the old Inuyasha she'd loved so much, all those years ago when she was young and still thought he'd love her back, if only she tried hard enough.

She tried to comfort herself with the thought that at least Kirara was safe, and Shippo and Rin too if they'd managed to find somewhere to go. Kagome was sure they had; Shippo was smart and enterprising. They were probably somewhere right now being treated like royalty. But clearly, they hadn't managed to locate Sesshoumaru or he would have returned well before this catastrophe had taken place.

Her crying turned into a shout of surprise when strong arms picked her up once more, but this time it was Yori instead of Takeshi. "Try not to kill this lieutenant, if you please," he said wryly, and carried her from the tent as the walls were taken down.

The house was almost gone now, she saw, and thought again of the white puppy on the _fusuma_ painting. Yori bore her out of the courtyard, through the gatehouse, and Kagome burrowed into his unwelcome embrace, her arms tightly around his neck as she wept.

"My lord," he addressed Takeshi, sounding pained, "the human is… hugging me."

Takeshi's own tone was serious when he replied. "Yes. They are known to do that. I suggest you bear it stoically; it could be worse." Apparently Yori made some sort of disbelieving expression, for Takeshi soon continued, "She could be trying to purify you." Pause. "It hurts."

Kagome choked back the hysterical laughter that bubbled up. It had only been a week since Inuyasha had stolen her half of the Shikon, and now this… she curled further into Yori and just concentrated on breathing without hyperventilating.

It worked, too, until she saw Takeshi pinning the lock of her hair to the gatehouse wall.

"Why are you doing that?" She hadn't wanted to speak to him again, ever, but couldn't help but ask what it was about.

"Have you not figured it out yet?" he asked, seeming amazed.

"No…" Kagome wracked her brains for a possible point to it all, and came up with nothing.

He could only shake his head in reaction to her ignorance. "I seek the Shikon no Tama, of course. My information was that Inuyasha's miko gave half to Sesshoumaru. You can imagine, I am sure, what a surprise it was to learn you were she, and you were _here_… but without your half of the jewel, I am sad to say."

And he did look sad indeed. It was eerie, that he would be disappointed over not obtaining the jewel when his nephew's home was now scarcely more than charred timbers and there was a dead boy laying discarded in the dirt.

"Where _is_ your half, incidentally?" When no answer was forthcoming from her, he only sighed. "Irrelevant, I suppose. I already suspect its location. It is just a matter of time before I find it." He smiled. "And then none shall be able to oppose me, else it be their ruin."

In Yori's arms, Kagome began to struggle, to no avail. "You're crazy," she said flatly when she gave up and slumped back against him.

Takeshi quirked a bright red eyebrow. "Demon," he reminded her, spreading his arms wide. "And gloriously free of that annoying thing you ningen are so burdened by." The last of the camp packed, he left them to walk at the head of the company, leading them up the dusty road toward the North.

Unable to resist, Kagome asked Yori, "What annoying thing is he talking about?"

When he bent his face to speak to her, his long whiskers brushed her face ticklishly. "I believe," he said, sounding amused, "that he refers to 'a conscience'."

* * *

Kouga had never been to the Western lands; he didn't even know where Sesshoumaru's home was, so he settled for terrorizing the inhabitants of every village he came to for directions. He'd always had a finely honed sense of premonition; when the first tangy whiff of fire and smoke floated to his nostrils he'd known, somehow, that Kagome was involved. 

Ignoring the last villager's direction that he take the road northwest of where they now stood, he took off due west, leaving only a cocky smile and a dust devil. Even though he'd given up the shards in his legs at Kagome's prettily phrased request, he was still the fastest demon around and it took him no time at all to arrive at what had, just a few hours earlier, been a rather nice spread.

The place was a maelstrom of scents, but three familiar ones stood out: Kagome's, Shippo's, and Kirara's. Standing from his crouch beside the dead boy—whose scent was remarkably like Sango's, actually—he followed his nose to the gatehouse.

Skewered by a rusty nail was a two-foot length of familiarly wavy hair. Kouga touched it with fingertips that were suddenly shaking a little. Clearly, a company of demons had been here; the myriad scents and signs of recent civilization in the form of flattened grass and pole-holes from tents were proof of that. What had they done to his Kagome? Why hadn't Sesshoumaru stopped them from destroying his home?

_What the hell had happened here?_

He curled his hand into a fist and slammed it into the other's palm. The rubble was still smouldering; this had happened but several hours ago. The odor of the demon soldiers went North, so that was the direction Kouga would head.

He took off, slowing down only every few miles to be sure he was still on the right track. And it wasn't long before he caught up to them, just an hour later, as twilight was turning the hills and hollows blue. They'd taken over some hapless farmer's field to make camp for the night, and there was Kagome in the arms of a tall skinny fellow with ebony skin and whiskers.

There were too many for him to fight. Even with the shards in his legs, Kouga would have been hard-pressed to handle a hundred battle-hardened demon troops, but now… no, he'd have to do it the sneaky way. Kagome was a woman; like all females, eventually she'd insist on some 'private' time to handle personal issues. And when she did, he'd run in, grab her, and be away before anyone was the wiser.

Kouga circled around until he was downwind of them, not wanting to give them any hint of his presence, and settled in to wait. This was the part he hated; he was a youkai of action, not of patience. Finally, blessedly, she left the tent she'd been carried into a few hours earlier and walked toward a clump of bushes. He could hear her scolding the youkai accompanying her.

"Go away!" she was saying, flapping her little hands, her face and tone irate. "I can't go with you standing there, watching me!"

Kouga got to his feet, digging his toes into the ground for traction, and the moment her guard turned and shuffled away a few paces, sprang into motion. His cyclonic dust cloud wasn't as impressive as it had been last year this time, thanks to loss of the shards, but he was still almost faster than the eye could follow.

One moment Yori was waiting for his charge to finish and the next, a strong breeze whipped by him. Then there was silence, and the area behind the bush was now void of any living presence. He frowned, checking all sides of the bush, then the surrounding area.

She was gone.

If he could have, Yori would have blanched. The miko was instrumental to Takeshi's plans to obtain the Shikon no Tama; losing her was sure to bring out the Northern Lord's no-so-latent homicidal tendencies.

The dust cloud had headed West; it was clear to Yori that she'd been taken by something incredibly fast. Well, he wasn't too poky himself, and with a resigned sigh, took off in that direction.

Yori might be fast in his own right, but Kouga was smart. He went West until he hit water, then bounded down the stream completely unperturbed that he was soaking his passenger as well as himself. "Hi, Kagome," he greeted her, smiling.

"Kouga?" she asked, peering up at him in disbelief. "Kouga?

He laughed, eyes gleaming down at her in the speed-blurred moonlight. "Yeah, it's me. Surprised?"

"Um, yeah!" Then he was the one surprised when she flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly enough to cut off both air supply and circulation. "Thank you," she whispered against his neck. "I'm so glad you came. I was so scared."

He sobered instantly. "What happened there? I came to Kaede's to see you… Shippo and his little girlfriend were there, told me this story about everything going to hell after Mutt-Face went nuts and stole the Shikon shards from you."

Kagome went limp with relief. "Oh, good," she whispered. "I was so worried about them… were they okay?"

"They're fine," Kouga replied impatiently. "What happened at Sesshoumaru's place? That dead kid… that was Sango's brother, wasn't it?"

She said nothing, just buried her face against his shoulder and began to cry. Cursing under his breath, he decided they'd gone far enough in the stream to throw off anyone who might be following, and took off toward the East. He ran until Kagome's weeping stopped, and then ran some more. Finally, even his reserves of strength and speed were tapped and he found a village.

Zipping through it, Kouga collected enough laundry from the lines for them to change into, since their things were still wet from the stream, then collected a bit of firewood and made a fire while Kagome ducked behind a tree to change. Made for a man, the yukata made her slight frame seem even more diminutive. With her hair in damp waves around her face, and the pronounced shadows under her eyes, she appeared even more beautiful to him, delicate and fragile, and he didn't even think before scooping her into his lap.

He half expected her to protest or try to wriggle away, but instead she just curved herself into him, holding on tightly. "I'm so glad you came for me," she murmured. "I sent Shippo and Rin for Sesshoumaru, but he never came, and things just kept getting worse…"

"Why didn't you send them for me, Kagome?" he asked, even though he already suspected the answer. "You know I would have come for you, right away." Even though he loved Kagome and knew she'd be excellent as his consort, a fine co-ruler for his wolves, Kouga knew he was never first in her thoughts or heart.

She looked up at him then, her eyes huge. "I'm so sorry, Kouga," she said mournfully.

"Don't be," he replied roughly, pressing her head back down against his shoulder. "It's not your fault."

"I feel like everything's my fault." Her fingers curled into the fabric of the pilfered haori he wore.

"It it's anyone's fault, it's Mutt-Face's," Kouga told her fiercely. Oh, he was going to pound that dog into a pulp the next time he saw him!

But Kagome was shaking her head. "No," she insisted, "if I had listened to Midoriko, none of this would have happened. But I couldn't do it, Kouga! I couldn't kill Inuyasha like she told me."

"Because you love him," he said, his voice flat and resentful. "Even though he doesn't deserve it."

"No!" she protested, staring up at him. "Well, yes. I love him, because he's one of my best friends. But I'm not in love with him anymore. I got over that, a while ago I think… when I realized it was pointless."

She seemed so sad, Kouga wanted to kick himself for reminding her of bad memories. "Does that mean," he said, smiling rakishly in an attempt to cheer her up, "that you're finally ready to be my woman?" He was glad to hear her laugh, even though it hurt that she would laugh instead of agree, or kiss him, or at least take him seriously.

"You're a good friend too, Kouga," Kagome told him, hugging around his waist. "Thank you so much for saving me from Takeshi."

"Was that his name?" he asked absently. "You don't have to keep thanking me. I'll always save you, and not because I want to be your friend."

She went very still in his arms. "I know," she replied in a small voice.

"You should at least give me a chance." He knew he was being petulant, but couldn't seem to help it. "I've waited so long for you, Kagome."

Her face, shadowed and highlighted by the fire, was stricken. "Kouga," she entreated, "not now. Please. I can't take any more today." Her voice sounded broken, old and broken.

"I'm sorry," he sighed.

She nodded under his chin and shivered a little, so he held her tighter and pulled another of the stolen yukata over them, then settled back against a tree and just tried to memorize how she felt in his arms. It was, he figured, the only time he'd have the opportunity.


End file.
